The Cutting Edge
by bittie752
Summary: Rose Tyler was a rising speed skating star until one mistake derailed her promising career. John McDonald was a pairs figure skater with a lot of talent and a lot of attitude. Both of them had one last shot at glory, each other. Provided they don't kill each other first. Based on the movie the Cutting Edge
1. Chapter 1

**So here's another movie verse and this time it is based on one of my top ten all-time favorite movies, The Cutting Edge. If you haven't seen it that's okay but I encourage you to see it. It is filled with all my favorite things UST, people snipping at each other and, of course, ice skating.**

**I'm writing this mostly for my chat girls but Callistawolf/RoseandherDoctor in particular since she and I plotted this out late one night last month. Once again thanks and hugs to my lovely beta lastincurableromantic.**

**Please note this is VERY AU! There are some things that happen in this story that wouldn't happen in canon (I'm pretty sure the Doctor and Rose were never ice skating competitors in the Olympics, but you never know.) But by the end of this we get their faces smushed together and that's this is all about.**

**One last thing, I apologize in advance for tasking several liberties with the British Olympic system. They don't send pairs skaters to every Winter Games.**

**So I hope you all enjoy.**

**_2006 Winter Olympics, Turin, Italy_**

Adrenaline coursed through Rose Tyler's veins as she waited for the start of the race. This was it, the finals in the Women's 3000 meter speed skating competition, her signature event. She had already pulled out a Silver in the 1500, but she was built for distance.

The sound of the crowd energized her. At 16, she was one of the youngest people on Great Britain's small Olympic team. But her age was a benefit, she was young and strong and favored for the Gold. In her final pre-race ritual she closed her whiskey colored eyes. Then she touched her lucky charm to her overly large lips that were wrapped around her mouth guard. The charm, a pin of a blue police box, had been given to her by her grandfather, who was a former police officer**.** Finally she flipped her golden blonde ponytail. Silly little rituals that may not actually bring her luck but she was still unable to perform without them.

One quick flick of her eyes towards the crowd and she spotted her mum and dad proudly waving small British flags and cheering wildly. Her parents had sacrificed everything to give Rose her dream of being a professional skater. They had started her in figure skating and she had shown real promise, but those lessons had soon become too expensive. There was no way that they would have been able to afford to raise her to be a professional figure skater. So at the age of seven, Rose had suggested speed skating as an alternative. Less rigorous on ice training with her coach meant fewer expenses for her parents.

Not that Rose ever slacked in her training regimen. She skated or ran no less than ten kilometers every single day. She had strength training three times a week and full day sessions with her coach twice a week. Rose was fully committed to her sport and only yesterday had earned a Silver medal to prove it and today she was determined to win the Gold.

The first warning sounded to alert the racers to ready themselves for the starting call. Rose took a deep breath and moved her feet into position. Tension was tight in the pit of her stomach and she smiled, relishing the feeling. This was it, the culmination of years of preparation.

A loud blast over the loudspeaker sounded and she was off, firmly in the middle of the pack as she let the sprinters tire themselves out. Endurance was what was needed here.

As the race progressed, Rose focused on the sound of her skates on the ice, the sound of her deep even breaths. The sounds of the crowd were all but forgotten as she passed one skater after another. Now she was in the final stretch and far enough ahead that the Gold was easily hers. She could taste victory.

And that's when it happened.

Rose lost concentration and the cheers from the crowd filled her ears. She crossed her feet wrong and stumbled, falling hard onto the ice. Of all the stupid things that she could have done this was it. Mentally, she kicked herself and hauled herself back to her feet, not willing to let herself be defeated by this set back.

But it was too late, three skaters had passed her. She was able to overtake the last one just before she crossed the finish line. Third place, she'd still won the Bronze but had lost the Gold. It wasn't even that someone else had been better; she had lost all on her own. Her heart sank and she felt like she was going to throw up. She'd won the Bronze but she might as well have come in last. All of her hard work, all of her sacrifice, all of her parents' sacrifices and she had blown it at the eleventh hour.

* * *

In another ice arena, John McDonald was trying to practice a lift with his ice skating partner, Martha Jones, while dodging the other skaters whizzing by. At twenty years old, John was tall and thin but deceptively strong, with thick brown hair that was currently slicked back.

He had been skating since he could walk and had been training for this moment for the majority of his twenty years. His mother had been an Olympic hopeful but a broken ankle had sidelined her career. She had delighted in teaching her son everything that she knew. His father had been a business man who had been more apt to give money rather than affection to John. Still they had seemed very much in love, best he could remember. Tragically, his parents had died in a boating accident almost eleven years ago, and John had been raised by his maternal grandfather, Wilf, in the family home in Scotland.

One of the American couples passed a little too closely and John all but dropped Martha Jones. The pretty, sweet, young black woman had only been John's partner for the past 18 months and as far as John was concerned, he was the talent and she was just another pretty face.

"You need to lock your grip," Harold Saxon, John and Martha's coach, screamed from the sideline. "You're never going to get anywhere with that limp-wristed grip that you have. I'd be willing to bet more than half the women out here could do a better job executing those lifts than you ever could."

In a huff, John skated up to Saxon and sent a scathing look over his shoulder to Martha. "Maybe if Madame would stop fidgeting so much, I wouldn't have to worry so much about my grip. You sure know how to pick them. Course you were probably just trying to get in her knickers. Oh, wait. She doesn't have right parts for you, does she?"

Cameramen from several international news organizations started snapping photos and shooting videos of the fight. Martha stood behind John doing her best not to cry. Saxon's face grew red hot with anger. "You stupid twat, just because you can't get her up, don't go hurling accusations at either of us! You self-absorbed, egotistical..."

"I learned from the Master," John said scathingly. "Ten long, insufferable years under your tutelage is enough to drive anyone as mad as a hatter." Turning, John began to skate away.

"Get your arse back here! Practice isn't over," Saxon yelled.

Cheekily, John spun around and kept skating away, backwards. He raised both of his middle fingers in salute before leaving the ice.

* * *

In their final skate later that night, the crowd was a blur as John and Martha executed their routine flawlessly. They were mere seconds away from the Gold, John thought with a smirk. He had been perfect and Martha had even done her part without managing to mess everything up.

His hands found her waist as they began the final lift. Glory was within his grasp. All he had to do was land this lift. Five more seconds and it was his.

Three seconds left and his arm trembled and his wrist started to give way. Two seconds and Martha began to tumble. He couldn't react. His mind and body froze as Martha hit the ice hard. She was attempting to push herself back up, to finish the routine. But what was the point? They had failed and it was all her fault.

Without helping Martha to her feet and without a backwards glance, John skated off the ice.


	2. Chapter 2

**6 years later**

**Edinburgh, Scotland- McDonald Family Estate**

John spun faster and faster on the ice, barely feeling any exertion while his partner Grace Holloway collapsed onto the ice, panting heavily. He would have laughed if it wasn't so sad. This woman was supposed to be his partner, equal to his physical prowess. Instead she just wasn't up to the challenge: weak, no stamina, no competitive drive. She was definitely wasn't what he needed.

"That's enough," Donna Noble barked from behind the rail.

Coming to an abrupt halt, John looked down at his 'partner' and then over to his new coach. "Do we or do we not have eight minutes left?"

"It's enough for today. No need to torture the poor girl anymore." Stepping carefully onto the ice, Donna helped Grace to her feet. "Up you go, dear. Time for a hot shower, yeah?"

"Thanks," Grace mumbled as she limped off to her room, mumbling curses under her breath as she went.

"Grandfather," John yelled across the room to where Wilfred Mott, the man who had raised him, stood. "Get her a train ticket home. She's done here," John said coldly before skating off to practice his double axels.

Donna made her way over to where Wilf was and bumped his shoulder with her own. "He has to stop this," she sighed, nodding towards John. "Grace was the last candidate. No one will skate with him after Torino, after what happened to Martha. He's incredibly talented, but he's an arse. It's why he missed Vancouver and at this rate he won't make Sochi. You should have made him a single skater."

"His mother insisted on pairs." Wilf gave a wistful smile. "She said there was nothing more beautiful than two people moving together on the ice. We tried to get John to switch to singles, but he refused. John thought it would dishonor her memory."

Wilf sighed. "She wouldn't like this, though. This attitude comes from his father. 'Be the best or don't even bother to try,' he'd always say." He paused for a moment and turned to look Donna full in the face. "There has to be someone else, someone that could handle him. Please, find someone for him."

* * *

Donna sat in the back of the town car as she was driven to one of the seedier parts of London. One manicured nail tapped the stack of papers in her lap, her research on one Rose Tyler. This girl was her last hope, but it was a long shot, a very long shot.

The woman was exceedingly talented. Rose had won two of the three medals Britain had earned in Torino all by herself. But at sixteen, the pressure of a world class athlete must have gotten to her, and her life had seemed to free fall for a few years after that.

According to her unofficial biography, a few months after the Olympics, she ran off with Jimmy Stone, a local bad boy slash wannabe rocker boy. As anyone could have foreseen, that had ended badly with the boy being arrested for dealing drugs. Rose was never implicated in any wrongdoing but it had been another black mark against the skater.

Soon after Rose had returned home, her father Pete had been tragically killed in a hit and run accident. Instead of causing Rose to further lose focus and slip into more self destructive behavior, it had seemed to have the opposite effect. The young girl, by then only 18, had finished her education and started working in sports therapy while helping her mum run the family pub.

Of course, she also had an interesting hobby that Donna seemed to think would make her a perfect match for that pillock John McDonald.

The car pulled to a stop outside of an old building near the Powell Estate in South London. On the front side of the building was an old school pub. Tyler's Place, the aged sign above the door read. It looked like the place had been around a while. Donna slung her bag over her shoulder. A smile tugged at her lips as she moved towards the back of the building, part of an old warehouse where they held the roller derby matches twice a week.

Today was a match day so the place was noisy, crowded and smelled of smoke and stale beer. Donna paid the cover charge and immediately went to the bar for a pint. The Vitex Army, the Tyler's Place pub team, was facing off against Davros' Daleks. It looked like a violent sport with people being slammed into walls, elbowed and knocked down.

Rose, otherwise known as Bad Wolf, was obviously the captain of her team. And she was by far the best player. The girl was faster and more aggressive than anyone else, but there was also an underlying gracefulness to her movements. There was something in those movements that told Donna that there was real talent in this girl.

Unable to help herself, Donna got caught up in the game. She found herself cheering on Rose's team as they soundly defeated their opponents. At one point, she ended up making a few new friends when she sloshed her beer down some bloke named Mickey's shirt.

After a few rounds on Donna's tab, of course, for him and his friends, Keisha and Shireen, Donna had gotten a little more intel on Ms. Tyler. Rose was still training, running almost every day. She had started back on the ice a few months ago. Although her 9 to 5 kept her from being as active as she wanted to be, she might just be open to another shot at the Olympics.

When the match was over, Donna lingered with her new friends and waited for Rose to change. Shireen and Keisha left to go and meet their boyfriends, leaving just Mickey there when the woman in question came out. For someone who had just been in a knock down drag out, Rose looked only slightly battered. She was only sporting a single plaster on her right cheek.

"Hey, Micks," Rose said, leaning over to kiss Mickey on the cheek. "Who's your friend?"

"Donna Noble," the red-head skating coach replied, extending a hand in greeting.

Rose took the proffered hand. "Reporter?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Next to her, Mickey tensed but Rose laid a hand on his arm and continued talking. "Coz that story's been done to death, there's nothing left to tell."

"No, not a reporter," Donna grinned and took a swig from her glass. "I'm a coach."

Rose turned to Mickey, she nodded and the dark skinned man excused himself. For a long moment Rose studied Donna, appraising the newcomer before speaking.

"I don't even think the Olympic committee is going to consider Derby as a sport until the 2020 games and I know all the speed coaches, at least all the good ones in Britain. So how come I don't know you?" She took a gulp of Mickey's abandoned drink and waited for an answer.

The older woman snorted. "Well, I'm no derby or speed coach, and this may be nothing, but…" Donna pulled a pair of skates out of her bag. "I have a mad idea."

Rose dribbled slightly as she said, "Those are figure skates, mate."

* * *

The trip to Scotland hadn't taken long on the private plane. Rose made small talk with Donna as the car drove through the streets. From what she said, Donna had started training this figure skater about a year ago, after he had gone through several coaches and partners and had missed a return trip to the Olympics.

"Ah," Rose said with a knowing grin. "So this is where the reclusive John McDonald retreated to after the Torino incident. I knew Martha Jones had moved on. Met her once, back at her first games. Lovely girl. I watched her and her new partner on the telly when they won Silver in Vancouver. Impressive skater, Martha is. No wonder why she split with McDonald, though." Rose snorted. "Seemed like a bit of a wanker."

Donna laughed. "Yeah, he is. I'm not gonna lie to you, Rose. He's a right pain to deal with: huge ego, spoiled and he has no filter on his mouth. But he's talented. One of the best skaters I've ever seen. Very few women can keep up with his skating, let alone deal with his attitude."

"Sounds like a challenge." Rose's lips twitched into a wolfish grin. "I'm good with challenges."

"Rose Tyler, I like you," Donna said as they pulled up to a large estate house.

The scope of the house and grounds took Rose's breath away. Donna had said that they were going to meet John at his house but... wow. This place was incredible.

"Come on," Donna said, waving a hand at a bath that led around the back of the house. The landscaping and architectural features of all of the buildings were stunning, and Rose was a little dazed as she walked into the back building.

"You have your own rink," she whispered in reverence for the beautiful full-sized skating arena. After growing up with such humble beginnings, she didn't fully comprehend how people lived like this.

"We have ice every day." Donna grinned. "Yeah, it's a bit posh, but scheduling practice is easy. Come on, I'll introduce you to his majesty."

Skating gracefully in the middle of the ice was a man, a gorgeous man in Rose's opinion. Dark brown hair, tall, lean, and well-proportioned with broad shoulders with trim hips, this was the kind of man that artists made masterpieces about. At least that's what Rose thought until the prat opened his mouth.

"Who the hell is this?" John asked, coming to a stop several feet in front of Rose and Donna. "I thought you were going to bring Susan Foreman?"

He sounded worse than a petulant child and Donna sighed. "Susan won't work with you and before you ask, neither will Barbra Wright, Zoe Heriot, Sarah Jane McDonald, Jo Grant, Leela, Romana or Ace. You've burned too many bridges. But I've found you someone great. This is the one and only Rose Tyler."

Stepping out on the ice, Rose extended a hand for him to shake. "Hello," Rose greeted him with a polite smile. This was not going very well, and it was about to get worse.

"Rose Tyler? Never heard of you." John crossed his arms, eyes raking up and down her body. For a moment she thought he might be checking her out until he snorted. "Oh, you're that speed skater. The one that blew the Gold at the last moment."

"Oi!" Rose yelled, hating his condescension. "I managed to get back up and still win the Bronze. It goes nicely with my Silver." She mockingly looked around the room. "Where do you keep your Olympic Medals at?"

"Get her out of my building!" John stamped his blade into the ice. "Get her out now!"

"Excuse me, but who the hell died and made you God? You good for nothing twat." Rose hurled insults at him. "Someone needs to teach you some manners."

"I don't have to listen to you. If this was your audition then let me assure you that it is over." John was seething. "Now get your bottle blonde hair out of my sight."

A shrill whistle ripped through the air. The pair looked over to Donna. "You two, button it. John, you are a pairs skater. Pairs means two, you dumbo, and last time I checked NO ONE wants to skate with you."

Rose sniggered, and Donna rounded on her. "And you, missy, what you're doing is all well and good, but you are wasting your prime skating years. You have talent and stamina and you're a world class athlete wasting your talents in a pub league where you're at risk for a career ending injury. So both of you stop snipping at one another and let's see if you can skate."

Less than ten minutes later, Rose had the figure skates strapped to her feet. It had been years since she'd had these types of skates on. Her toes wiggled as she tapped the claw like ends of the blades on the ice.

"Those are toe picks," John said, skating up behind her. "You see, ice skates are different than the ones that you use for speed skating." He spoke slowly as if explaining something to a very young child. "They help us figure skaters to do more than just move fast in one large circle."

Instinctively, Rose jabbed her elbow into John's stomach, and he doubled over as he had the wind knocked out of him. Grinning, she skated off and although she was a bit wobbly, she managed to do a few spins and a small jump. "Like this, oofy boy?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh, good job, speed demon. A few more lessons and maybe you won't wobble like a baby."

"Do you really have to be so rude?" Rose asked, skating back over to him.

"Do you have to be so obnoxious?" John retorted.

"Time to skate!" Donna called. "Now take a couple of laps, together."

With resignation, John put his left arm around Rose and took her right hand in his. Donna counted them down and the pair began to skate passably well. Rose had to be reminded that this wasn't a race. It wasn't at all what she was used to and, in what seemed to be his typical fashion, John muttered insults on her style and form. The man really was a pillock, but Rose refused to let him get to her again.

They were just about to finish their second lap when Rose's foot got caught on John's. She wasn't able to recover and she fell to the ice. Deep, evil laughter reverberated around rink.

The source of that cackle bent down into her field of vision. He smiled at her and cried, "toe pick," before skating off again.

Angrily, Rose stood back up and skated after him. She caught up to him easily and turned around to skate backwards. Sticking her tongue out, she managed to beat him back to where Donna was standing.

The redhead just rolled her eyes at their antics and looked sternly at them. "John, pick her up."

"Fine," he huffed, coming up behind her and resting his hands on her waist. He easily lifted her above his head. "At least she's not as heavy as some of those cows you've brought here, Donna."

"If I didn't know better," Rose said icily, "I'd think that was a compliment, or at least the best that you could manage."

"Eating less than some of the more qualified skaters that have been lucky enough to get an audition with me hardly deserves a compliment," he snarked, his left hand moving slightly.

The grip he had on her waist faltered slightly. "Oi, put me down if you can't hold on properly. Or do you just like to drop all your partners?"

In horror, he released his hands and let her fall to the ice. "How dare you!" he screamed. "Who told you to say that? You can just sod off, you no talent chav. Donna, get her out of here. I don't want to see her again." Turning around, he skated away.

"Still titchy about that then?" Rose asked, standing back up.

"Yeah, he is," Donna agreed before asking Rose to change out of her skates and meet her up in the main house.


	3. Chapter 3

After changing back into her trainers, Rose walked the path up to the house. The grounds here were lovely; too bad the view was wasted on that plonker. Once inside, a maid showed her to a small office. She was studying several pictures and an empty glass case when the door opened.

A kindly looking older man with white hair and matching close-cropped beard walked in. "If you stare at that box long enough you'll start to see a Gold Medal in there. I'm Wilfred Mott, call me Wilf. I'm John's grandfather." They shook hands and Wilf gestured towards one of the chairs in a small sitting area. "Please sit."

Rose took a seat in one of the plush armchairs. Wilf sat caddy corner to her in another chair. There was a pot of tea and biscuits set out on a small table near them. "I'm sorry that this didn't work out, and I'm sorry for the awful things John said to you." He poured a cup of tea and handed it to her.

"Ta," she said, accepting the drink. "And you don't need to apologize for him. He's a big boy, and he's responsible for his own actions."

"Yes, he is," Wilf said, taking his own cup and relaxing back into his chair. "But part of that's my fault. Since his parents, my daughter and her husband, died when John was younger, I've overindulged him. Given him everything that he's ever wanted."

"My parents sacrificed a lot when I was growing up, and then after the Olympics I went on a self-destructive binge. But I never treated other people the way that your grandson just treated me." Rose leaned forward and set down her tea. "Wilf, what exactly are you trying to accomplish by finding John another partner?"

The older man looked at her in confusion. "To win at the Olympics," he stated as if that was obvious. "We just need to find that go-to girl."

Rose shook her head. "This shouldn't be about winning or being the best. It's about doing what you love, and how can John love it when he goes around with that chip on his shoulder and thinking he's better than everyone else?" Rose picked up her cup and took a sip. "Don't get me wrong, he's an excellent skater and right now I'm not. But I love skating and being out there on the ice today, even with the insults, I felt alive again."

Rose smiled at Wilf. "If you want another cookie cutter girl who's been figure skating since she could walk then keep lookin'. If you want someone who loves to skate, is secure enough in herself to stand her ground against John and can be his equal, then you've found your girl."

Slowly a smile crept across Wilf's face. "When can you start?"

Donna had chewed him up one side and down the other for his behavior. He was surprised that he could still hear. Yes, he may have been harsh, but she was just as rude to him. It was just as well that she wouldn't be staying. She may have had an iota of talent, but he didn't have the time or the patience to train her.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped up to his grandfather's office. He was about to open the door when he heard laughing coming from the other side of it. Of course she must be flirting with his grandfather. She seemed like just the kind of woman who used her womanly wiles to get what she wanted out of men.

Okay, that was rude, even for him. He couldn't honestly make that kind of assumption because he didn't know her. And truth be told he didn't want to get to know her. There was something about her that rubbed him the wrong way.

The voices grew louder and footsteps came towards the door. John scrambled backwards trying to look like he wasn't listening.

The door burst open and Rose walked out, hanging on Wilf's arm. The pair was giggling. His grandfather was giggling! Who did this woman think she was?

"John," Wilf said, surprised to see him there.

"I, um, just came by to say goodbye." John ran a hand through his hair, making his slicked back quaff stand straight up.

"Well, hold off on that." Wilf beamed. "Rose is going to be joining us here as your new partner."

"I like your hair better like that." Rose smirked at John. "Now, I'd best be off, I need to settle a few things back home with Mum and work, but I'll see you blokes in just a few days." With a wink she was out the door.

John turned and through the front window could see her bouncing down the steps and hear her laughter fading. Livid, he rounded on his grandfather. "I can't skate with her. She's too much work. She'll never be ready in time!"

"Rose is the end of the line, John, your last chance. Cock this one up and I won't finance another search for another partner." Wilf looked sternly at his grandson for possibly the first time in his life.

"You can't do that. It's my money." John stomped his foot, sounding like a petulant child.

"Not until you're thirty. Sorry, but those are the rules of your trust." Wilf crossed his arms and gave John a small smile. "In the meantime, think of Rose as a challenge."

* * *

Several days later John was warming up when Rose came into the rink. Typical, he thought, he'd been here for a quarter of an hour and practice started in ten minutes. She was practically late.

"Good morning," she said cheerily. Blimey, he hated it when she was cheery. Stepping onto the ice, she smiled at him. He hated it even more when she smiled.

"Good morning," he bit out as he watched her do several laps around the rink. Alright, so she was fast, really fast, but she still wasn't a figure skater.

Finishing her final lap, she came to a stop next to him and started bending over to stretch. "So," she said when she stood up. "It's the weekend soon. What do you do for fun around here?"

"Well, I'm sure that the things I do wouldn't interest you. You know, since it doesn't involve going down to the pub and getting pissed or dry humping on the dance floor. "

Rose raised her eyebrows in surprise. "With a mouth like that, this place must be crawling with girls, or are you into blokes?" Catching her tongue between her teeth, she grinned.

"As a matter of fact, I do have a girlfriend." He preened a little, sure that this would shut her up.

Instead Rose laughed. "What do you do? Keep her chained up in the basement?"

"No," he snarked. "Joan is a very successful businesswoman, running the New York office of her father's company." He looked like the cat that had gotten the cream, at least until she fired back at him.

"Smart woman, that Joan. Guess you must look pretty good from a couple thousand miles away."

That made his blood boil. Just as he opened his mouth to hurl an insult in her direction, Donna came in and demanded their attention. "I don't care what you two have been snipping at each other about now. But it's time to button your lips and skate." John murmured something under his breath and Donna must have heard him because she yelled. "I said button it, dumbo!"

Rose slipped in a mouth guard and cracked her neck. "Why do you wear that thing?" John demanded, tired of seeing that stupid piece of plastic day after day.

"I don't trust you," Rose managed to say around it.

"One more word and I swear I will murder you both," their coach yelled.

Reticently, John skated over to Rose and took her hand; they were still working on skating together as a pair. Donna counted them off and they began to skate. They had made it two full laps when Rose's feet got tangled in his. She fell hard to the ice and John grinned.

"Toooooooe piiiiiiiick," he taunted before skating away laughing.

Every time she fell, she got back up. But then she would get tangled in his legs and fall down all over again. Each and every time he used his favorite taunt, chanting 'toe pick' over and over again. At one point she hit her face so hard that she split her lip and was spitting out blood. Donna offered to call off practice for a bit so she could ice it. With a shake of her head, Rose slipped the mouth guard back in and went back on the ice.

John studied her for a moment. There was something about the way she wouldn't let anything keep her down. He might not like her very much as a person, but his respect for her as an athlete grew just a little.

* * *

A little more than a week later, Donna was using the Zamboni on the ice while Rose, donning her speed skates, raced circles around the arena. Rose loved being on the ice, loved the sound of the blades cutting through the ice. There was an energy about it that she lived for. Donna whistled for her to pack it in so she could finish up. Rose skated over to where John was sitting in a chair, a book open on his lap.

"If you are so bored, you could read," John said, not looking up at her.

"Are you trying to start a conversation here?" Rose asked, raising an eyebrow. She loved pushing his buttons, and taking the conversation away from where he wanted it to go would do just that.

He snorted. "I was simply inquiring if you knew how to read."

Rolling her eyes she retorted, "Yes, even those of us who grew up poor learned how to read, git."

"Really, what was the last book you read? Or do you spend all your time reading Cosmo?"

Rose bit the inside of her lip to stop the rude comments that were on the tip of her tongue. "Dickens is actually one my favorites. I took a literature class at Uni."

"I'd heard you went to Uni," he said, raising his own eyebrows. "You dropped out to run off with some lowlife. But you went back to school, yeah?"

"Yes," she said, eyes narrowing slightly. She hated that he always liked to try to provoke her by reminding her of her mistakes. She had grown up since then, come to terms with her own stupidity. In the end it made her a better person. "I went back, got my degree and practiced sports medicine. What about you? Where did you matriculate from?"

That pushed just the right button and he spluttered. "Tutors, I had excellent, excellent tutors." Anger radiated off him as he stood and pointed at her skates. "Keep those monstrosities you call skates off my rink."

Rose chuckled and grinned up at him. "You are such a spitfire. I'd love to see you in a Derby match."

A smug grin cracked the anger on his face. "Anytime."

There was a local Roller Derby club and Rose had been to a match her first Friday night there. The owner of the club, David, had heard of her from the Olympics and from the London league and had told her to stop by anytime she wanted. Rose suppressed a giggle when John looked annoyed that she kissed David on the cheek in greeting. After explaining what they were doing there, David provided a pair of roller skates and a helmet in John's size and then sat back to enjoy the fun.

Rose quickly explained the rules and said that since they were playing one on one, they simply needed to lap one another in order to score the point. It was easy for her to pass him. He wasn't very good at blocking her; even with all his apparent aggression toward her, his blocking was weak. On the other hand, she had no trouble keeping him from passing her. She would let him almost get around her and then she would check him into the wall.

Oh, she wouldn't push him hard enough to hurt him, just enough to knock him on his arse. She laughed because every time he fell and every time she passed him he got more and more angry. He wasn't very good at this and that annoyed him to no end. His entire life he had been the best at everything he tried, and at something that he thought was a stupid little game, he was failing miserably.

Coming up behind him, she was laughing and he had had enough. With all of his might, he checked her into the wall. She felt her helmet fly off and her face hit the wall. After that the world faded to black.

John's foot twitched as he and Donna sat in the hard chairs in the waiting area of the A&E. "It's her fault, really," he said, not willing to look at Donna. She had picked him up at the Roller Derby arena when he was refused admittance on the ambulance. They had let her friend David come along, though. Not that he was much of a friend since he had left as soon as he knew there was no permanent damage. Apparently Rose had forgotten to sign the liability waiver.

"She was goading me into it. She kept knocking me over." John sounded defensive and he knew it. "It was her stupid idea in the first place, and it's hardly my fault the helmet fell off and she landed on her nose wrong."

Donna chuckled but didn't look up from the magazine she was reading. It was annoying, really, how she wasn't saying anything.

"Really, this is entirely her fault," he reiterated and still Donna said nothing. "Next thing I know, you're going to be telling me how guilty I sound."

"It's not guilt," Donna said, not looking up at him. "It's fear."

"What? What?" he spluttered. "What do you mean fear? What do I have to be afraid of?"

Donna turned and looked him squarely in the eye. "You have finally found yourself a partner."

"What?" he spluttered.

As if on cue, an orderly came out pushing Rose in a wheelchair. Almost her entire face and head was wrapped in bandages. "Bloody hell," John whispered. "They said it was just her nose."

Rose moaned as if she was in agony. "What is it?" he asked gently. "What's wrong?"

Donna took a step forward, but Rose held up a hand to stop her. Lifting that hand to her bandages, Rose tugged them down exposing her swollen nose that was already tinged purple. She looked up, smiled and taunted, "Toe pick."

That was it. He'd had enough. All he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears as he stormed out of the waiting area and towards Donna's car.

Inside Donna was still chuckling.

"What's his problem?" Rose asked, nodding towards the closing door.

Pressing her lips together to stop from grinning, Donna said, "I think he's afraid of a rematch."


	4. Chapter 4

**Big thanks to lastincurableromantic for her amazing beta services and keeping me from forgetting who's said what in particular scenes. Also to Callistawolf, Scifigeekgirl and A Who Down in Whoville for helping me make sure that I'm keeping with the spirit of the movie. **

**Little bit longer of a chapter this time, but the flow works better than splitting it into two would. Enjoy.**

In the aftermath of the Derby matchup, things became less strained between Rose and John. They began to turn everything into a friendly competition. Luckily that meant that no more trips to hospital. Instead, they challenged each other and began to have fun while doing it.

Lifting weight became about the number of reps. Running through the grounds became a foot race. And if sometimes she stole his knit hat and make him chase her, it just added to their growing closeness. They competed to see who got to the rink first in the morning and who could stay in a spin the longest. Several nights John fell asleep at the table during tea. Rose could not only keep up with him, but she pushed him to work harder to be more than he had been before.

Honestly, in the good times, working with Rose was the most fun that he thought he had ever had in his life. Rose had even stopped wearing her mouth guard to show she trusted him. But in the bad times he wanted to throttle her. Right now was one of the bad times.

Rose was strapped into a harness, and they were practicing overhead lifts and spins while she was in the air. She'd already made several remarks about the placement of his hands. He'd snapped back saying that she'd be lucky if he touched her there for anything other than skating. This of course had started her in on teasing him about his bedroom skills, or lack thereof.

Maybe she meant them in jest, but they rubbed him the wrong way. He wanted to tell her that he was impressive in everything that he did. The real problem was that he wanted to show her. His mind started running through various fantasies he'd had about Rose in the last few weeks and then those thoughts stopped him cold. He'd forgotten momentarily about Joan and for a moment there on the ice, his hands on Rose's body, he wished he didn't have anything holding him back. His concentration and grip slipped.

"Oi," she cried as she slipped slightly before the harness caught her. "Where's your head at, John?"

"I just need some air." He skated off the ice, put the covers on his blades and stepped outside. It was cold out on the early December day. The chilly air felt good biting into his lungs. His head was just beginning to clear when the door behind him opened.

"Are you alright?" Rose asked softly, real concern in her voice.

"I'm alright," he said without looking at her. "Thank you, Rose, but really I'm fine."

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she stepped in front of him. "Let me see your wrist." She pointed at his left hand. He didn't want to give it to her, but she reached out and took it anyway. If asked, he would deny that he felt the tingle creep through his body at her touch. Somehow this seemed much more intimate than the position they had just been in. Probably because this was just them, John and Rose, and not just ice skating partners.

Carefully, she manipulated his wrist back and forth and asked him to squeeze her hand. "This what you're like with all your patients?" he teased.

"None of them give me half the trouble you do." Rose looked up and gave him a bright smile. "And most of them have serious injuries they're recovering from."

"Are you thinking about going to medical school?" He was genuinely curious.

"Maybe one day, once my career is officially over."

"Well, you'd be brilliant at it." A blush crept over his face at his blatant honesty.

Rose smirked. "I think you have a slight weakness in your left wrist, probably your dorsal tubercle," she said, still holding his hand. "Most likely if you wear a soft brace in practice and do a few simple strengthening exercises, you shouldn't have any more issues with it."

Normally, he would have been upset that she would dare to say there was something wrong with his wrist, but the way she said it was so sincere, so without any shred of accusation that he knew she was doing nothing but trying to help. "Thank you," he said softly, adjusting his hand to hold hers. It was a perfect fit.

* * *

It was lightly snowing as Rose made her way up to the main house. Part of her was sad that she wasn't going home for Christmas. She missed her mum but things were just starting to go well between her and John as partners. Besides, her mum was used to her crazy training schedules and working over holidays, so she understood. Her mum didn't like it but she would deal and Rose had a trip home planned for just after the New Year.

Today was Christmas Eve and Wilf had been kind enough to invite her to a party for the company that had been owned by John's father. There wasn't much time left to get ready but she wanted to do this first. She had a Christmas present for John and wanted to give it to him in private in case he hated it.

What did you get a man who had everything and could buy anything that he didn't?

In desperation, she had gone with something small and personal. Coming up to his door, she knocked and heard a muffled response that she took as an invitation to come it. It became abundantly clear that it wasn't when she opened the door to find John standing by the window in nothing but a towel.

"Oh God," she blurted out, averting her eyes.

"Get out," John yelled angrily. "I didn't say come in."

"I know that now," Rose explained. "And it's not like you have anything I haven't seen before. Or anything to be ashamed of." Lifting her eyes she watched a bead of water trail down his finely sculpted chest. How many times had she felt those muscles in practice? How many times had she thought about what his bare chest would look like? Honestly it looked better than what her imagination had come up with.

"Is there a reason you came barging into my bedroom?" John asked, breaking her from her perusal. "Or are you just going to keep staring?"

"Well, it's such a nice view," Rose said, catching her tongue between her teeth and grinning. Once again her eyes raked up and down his body and a deep blush spread across his face across his face and down his chest and torso. Sadly she couldn't track its progress below there.

God, it had been too long since she'd had a good shag. At least now she had fantasy fodder. She shook her head clear before she pounced on her sexy, smug, not available partner. "I got you a Christmas present. Just wanted to give it to you in private."

John visibly swallowed and let his eyes dip from hers to her chest. He took a step forward and Rose held out a small gift wrapped parcel.

"I hope you like it," she said softly as he reached for it. His long fingers lingered on hers for a second or two longer than what would have been seen as appropriate.

With a grin, he unwrapped the present and threw the paper to the floor. For a moment his entire countenance seemed lighter. At least until he opened the box. His brow furrowed and his mouth fell open. He plucked up a small pin in the shape of a 1960's blue Police Box.

"It's a pin." He sounded dumbstruck and she suddenly felt stupid for giving it him.

"It's my good luck charm. My granddad was a police officer in the '60s and he gave this to me right before my first race. I've worn it at every one since. Thought I might share the luck. Not that you need." Rose bit her lip as she waited for his response. He didn't say anything and she knew this was a mistake.

"You gave me a pin." He looked up at her and she was unable to read his expression. "Your lucky pin."

Rose cringed. "Sorry, it was a daft idea." She reached out a hand to take it back. "I just didn't know what else to get you. You don't have to keep it."

He took a step backwards so the pin was just out of her reach. "No," he said, now clutching it to his bare chest protectively. "I like it."

"You don't have to say that just to spare my feelings." She made another lunge for it and he easily dodged her.

"Since when have I ever tried to spare your feelings?"

Rose paused and looked at him for a moment. "If you're sure..."

"I'm sure," he replied with a grin. "Thank you."

She smiled back. "You're welcome. I'll see you later." Turning around, she made to leave.

"Wait," he called. "I have something for you, too." From a side table, John picked up a silver gift bag with dark blue tissue paper billowing out of the top. He held it out to her and said, "Merry Christmas."

Excitedly, Rose dug into the prezzie. The tissue paper joined the wrappings from his on the floor. From inside she pulled an old book, a very old book. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. "Wow," she breathed out.

"You said you like Dickens." He shrugged. "It's the first edition with the illustrations by John Leech. It was part of my father's collection. I thought that it would be in better care with you than sitting in the library getting dusty."

"It's brilliant, thank you." Reaching out, she touched his arm, trailing her fingers down his skin until she reached his hand. This time he took initiative and pulled her closer. Anticipation surged through Rose's veins as he moved his other hand to her waist.

What would have happened next Rose would never know. Wilf's voice came from the other side of the door and the pair broke apart.

"Right," Rose said, clutching her book. "I'd best go get ready. See you later tonight, John." Without waiting for a reaction, Rose left John's room. Somehow she managed to cheerfully greet Wilf on her way back to her room in the guest house. All the while trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

* * *

A week after what Rose was calling the present incident, she found herself at another party. This one was Wilf's big New Year's Eve bash. That meant a second new dress in that short time frame. Thankfully, she had Donna to take her shopping and the funds to buy a few nice outfits with the generous allowance for living expenses that Wilf gave her.

It was too much, really, and she'd told him that, numerous times. Everything she needed on a daily basis was provided for her: food, shelter, a rink and an amazing coach. She didn't need living expenses. When she was training for her first Olympics she lived on much less. Her parents had to scrape together money in lots of creative ways. They had community fundraisers and they had sponsors. Rose had also done appearances for local business as well as campaign ads. Back then she wished that she could just focus on the skating. And now she could.

Subconsciously, her eyes darted around the room seeking John out. She quickly found him on the staircase talking to another man. Her heart skipped a beat. Since their almost… whatever that was... she had expected things to be awkward. But it really wasn't. John had seemed happier and had joked more freely. Well, the jokes were still sarcastic but lacked their former bite.

Donna's reactions were priceless. Their coach kept asking if he was being slipped antidepressants and if so, why hadn't he tried them earlier. It took a lot of self-restraint on Rose's part not to go to his room every night after practice and see if they could rekindle that moment. But he had a girlfriend, she reminded herself. Plus she didn't want to mess with their professional relationship.

Her eyes flicked back up to him on the stairs. His grin lit up his entire face. Just as she was about to walk over and grab his attention, another woman walked up beside him and wrapped an arm around his waist. The woman was elegantly dressed in a floor length red gown. Her light brown hair was pulled up in an elegant bun. When the woman kissed him on the mouth before moving on to greet other guests, Rose knew this must be the girlfriend.

Rose needed to rein in the jealousy that coursed through her veins. She also needed to remember that he wasn't available and that he could be incredibly difficult to be around. He was rude, arrogant and more than a little bit of a diva. And that their skating partnership was more important than any physical attraction she felt.

The air in the room felt heavy, and it was suddenly too noisy. She needed a moment to herself. Quietly she slipped into Wilf's office. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to clear her head.

John's eyes skated across the crowd, not really sure who he was looking for. Okay, that was a lie. He was looking for Rose when he should be trying to find Joan. Yes, he definitely should be looking for Joan, after all she had cleared her busy schedule to come and see him. She was even going to stay for two whole weeks and they were going to on a getaway next weekend when Rose went home to visit her mum.

A soft sigh escaped his lips. He was fairly certain the purpose of Joan's visit wasn't just to see him. No, Joan was here to meet Rose. He had lamented about her to Joan in emails and phone calls at first but recently had barely said a word to his girlfriend about his skating partner. Oh, he gave Joan progress reports, but he didn't want Joan to know that his feelings towards Rose were shifting. Well, his feelings for Joan were shifting, too, in the opposite direction.

Across the room he saw Rose dart into his grandfather's study. Curious as to what she was doing, John made his way down the stairs. Several people stopped him on his way across the room. After a quick hello to each of them, he politely excused himself. It took three times as long as he wanted to for him to get to the office.

The door swung quietly as he stepped out of the foyer. Rose was standing on the other side of the room with her back to him, studying some family pictures. "Hello," he called softy.

"Oh, hello, John," she said, turning to face him. Her dress was strapless, dark blue and had a smattering of silver sparkles trailing from her right shoulder to her left hip, giving it the effect of a clear, starry night. He rather liked the night sky. Her blonde hair was worn down and was loosely curled. A lamp glowed behind her and she looked... well, ethereal. Like a goddess.

"This room isn't usually open to the public during parties," he said, stepping closer to her and shutting the door.

"Well, I'm not exactly a stranger. Am I?" She pointed to one of the pictures on the wall. "These are your parents, yeah? Your mum was really beautiful and your dad was a knock out. Easy to see where you get your looks from." Catching her tongue between her teeth, she smiled.

His heart skittered at that smile. Over the last few weeks he'd grown quite fond of that smile. This woman made him feel things that he didn't even know he was capable of feeling. "Yes, that's Mother and Father. You would have liked Mother, was a lot like you, full of life. Father, well, let's just say that his looks weren't the only thing I inherited from him."

Rose stepped over to Wilf's desk and picked up a photo of John when he was thirteen. "Ah, so he was a tough nut to crack but completely worth the effort."

It felt like all the air had been sucked from his lungs at her bold statement. "Rose, I... you..." His mind went completely blank for a moment before he could calm his thoughts enough to speak again. "Rose Tyler, you look beautiful tonight."

"You're not so bad yourself, John."

He took a step forward, not really sure what he was planning on doing but knowing that he needed to be close to her. However, he didn't expect her to move away quite so quickly.

"We should get back to the party," she said softly when he tried to get close to her again.

"Right," he replied, not sure what was causing her reticence now when things had been heating up between them in the last week. "Rose, is something wrong?"

She shook her head and looked sad. "John, let's just go back to the party. I'm sure that your girlfriend must be looking for you."

Oh, he had completely forgotten about Joan again. That tended to happen when he was around Rose. He was torn because on one hand he wanted to forget Joan and focus on the gorgeous woman in front him. On the other had there was an old sense of...loyalty that he felt towards Joan.

"Come on," Rose called, opening the door to the office. Once back in the foyer, she took two flutes of champagne off a passing tray and tried to hand one to him.

He waved her off. "I don't drink."

"Why not?" she asked, taking a sip from one of the glasses.

"I've never had a drink in my life." He shrugged. "I don't expect you to understand."

Joan's voice called out from across the room. "There you are," she called, coming up to him and kissing him. It was more aggressive, more possessive than she normally kissed him in public. Quickly, he pulled back. "Ah, yes, good. Joan, this is Rose Tyler. Rose, this is Joan Redford."

Giving her best fake smile, Joan held out a hand. "Britain's very own speed demon."

"In the flesh," Rose said, pressing one of the champagne flutes into Joan's hand.

"Thank you." Joan held up the drink and barely suppressed a roll of her eyes as she took in the sight of the other woman.

Rose tugged at her dress. It wasn't nearly as expensive as Joan's, but it was still better than she had worn at any event growing up.

"What should we drink to?" Joan tapped a well-manicured nail against the glass.

Rose raised her glass and clinked it against Joan's. "Let's drink to the little people."

Joan took a long sip of her champagne as she looked appraisingly at Rose. "I saw you skate in Tornio. It's a shame what happened in the 3000. That must have been devastating for you to crack under the pressure. Especially for someone as young as you were."

The tension between the two women was palpable, and John managed to extricate himself from Joan's vice-like grip on his arm. He was just about to come to Rose's defense when she spoke up.

"You know at the time, yeah, I was pretty devastated. At sixteen with all that pressure on me, it's hard not to be overwhelmed by it all. But I tell you what, I managed to pick myself up and finish the race in spite of the disappointment. Tells you a lot about a person's character, I think."

John rubbed at the back of his neck. "And with that, I think I'll just go over there." He pointed across the room to a buffet table and started walking away. "There's a little too much catty-ness coming from the pair of you."

"You're different than I expected," Joan said, eyes narrowing.

Rose smirked. "And somehow you are exactly how I expected you to be."

Glowering at the other woman and refusing to break eye contact, Joan said, "I heard you've been giving John a hard time."

"If you mean not pandering to his mood swings or letting him walk all over me, then yeah, I've been giving him a hard time." Rose shrugged and pointedly looked away.

"I don't like to see him unhappy," Joan replied tersely.

Rose snorted. "Have you seen him lately? He's been smiling and joking, doesn't look unhappy to me." Without waiting for response, Rose stepped around the other woman and walked away.

From the other side of the room, John had been watching the exchange between Rose and Joan. This wasn't what he had expected to happen. Joan had never once shown the slightest bit of jealousy over his skating partners before. True, when he was skating with Martha, Joan had only been a friend. A good friend, an old friend, but still, she had only been a friend.

Even now they had only been casually dating three years and in that time he'd gone through thirty seven partners. None of them stuck around long enough for Joan to be jealous of. Not that Joan had anything to be jealous of before Rose. John had been so focused on his skating that he'd never even looked at another woman.

As it was, he barely looked at Joan. She had chosen to go to New York six months into their relationship. There had only been a few visits over that time. Most of them had been her coming to Scotland because he refused to give up time in his training regimen for international flights. A few days here or there he could spare, but he wasn't willing to give Joan weeks. The Olympics were more important.

He scrubbed a hand down his face and tried to force himself not to think about Joan. Instead he scanned the crowd and looked for someone to talk to. His eyes automatically locked onto Rose. She was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by what seemed to be every single man at the party. And a few that were decidedly not single. That was fine. That was lovely. She was free to do as she liked.

For the rest of the party, John was not in the best of moods. The fact that he knew he was a grumpy git meant that everyone else would see it, too. If it wasn't for the fact that it was New Year's Eve and if his grandfather hadn't made it clear that he was supposed to stay until midnight, he would have slipped away hours ago. Probably go to brood in his room or to make his way to his building and skate. On the ice was one of the few places he felt even a modicum of happiness.

Thankfully, time passed quickly and the countdown to the New Year started. "10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1 Happy New Year!" everyone in the room shouted. Joan grabbed John's face and kissed him. Hastily, he turned away and kissed the cheek of the woman on the other side of him. He made his way around the room kissing the cheeks of all the woman in his vicinity.

Rose was taking a bolder approaching and kissing all the men on the lips. It was all in fun and meant nothing. They weren't even proper kisses, just a mashing of lips. It was fun and carefree and Rose found that she was giggling, half out of glee and half from the champagne. She turned to kiss the next party guest and found herself face to face with John. It was if time stood still as they both looked stared at each other. Rose's gaze dropped to his lips and he licked them and smiled. Oh, how she wanted to kiss him.

Never before in his life had John wanted to kiss someone as much as he wanted to kiss Rose right now. What if he kissed her and she kissed him back? What if he kissed her and she slapped him? Just as he was about to chuck it all and kiss her, she leaned in and angled her head in just a way…to kiss his cheek.

"Happy New Year," she murmured before turning away.

John swallowed, not sure what had happened. "Happy New Year," he whispered to her retreating form.


	5. Chapter 5

Rose folded another jumper and shoved it into her knapsack. She was only packing the essentials for her quick trip home. They only had a few months to get Rose qualified for Nationals, but after missing the holidays Rose need a few days with her mum. She needed a few days outside of Scotland and away from John McDonald.

Things around here had been a little strained the last few days. With Joan around and the near kiss on New Year's Eve, Rose was feeling completely off they were practicing, just her and John (and Donna of course), things seemed to heat up between them but all too often Joan had shown up to watch them skate and John's entire body would tense up. Whether it was simply the other woman's presence or something else, Rose wasn't entirely sure.

Joan had also joined them on a run yesterday morning. It would be a bold faced lie if Rose said that she didn't get any pleasure from the fact that only two kilometers in Joan was sidelined with a stitch in her side and was panting from exhaustion. And it most certainly wouldn't have been ladylike for Rose to gloat that she had finished the rest of her run and had still beaten Joan back to the rink. Nope, not ladylike at all.

Rose took a deep breath in through her nose and zipped her pack shut. Perspective, she needed perspective. It was time to clear her head and stop acting like a teenager competing for a boy's affection.

Speaking of the man himself, John's voice came from the hall outside her room. "Rose," he called as he pushed her already ajar door open. When he caught her eye, he grinned. "Good, I caught you before you left. I wanted to give you this." He pulled a DVD case out from behind his back and handed it to her.

"What is it?" she asked, turning the case over and seeing a picture of the two of them skating.

"It's our greatest hits." Nervously he rocked back on his heels. "To show your family."

"Brilliant," she exclaimed, a smile breaking out on her face. "Mum's been bugging me to see what I've been up to."

John mirrored her smile and pulled on his ear. "Grandfather booked extra rooms at Nationals and we'd love for your family to join us."

"I'm sure Mum will be there. Thank you." Rose moved to put the DVD in her pack and John took it as an open invitation to step fully into her space.

His eyes flitted around the pictures and bric-a-brac on her dresser. There was a picture of her in Torino with two people who were probably her parents.

"Mum and Dad," she confirmed, peering over his shoulder.

Her dad was wearing her Silver medal and beaming like a kid on Christmas. John studied several other photos, just like Rose had done in Wilf's office a few days ago. A large framed photo was hanging on the wall. It was Rose, who couldn't have been more than fifteen, and her dad on their hands and knees apparently sniffing the ice. Both of them were beaming.

"What's this then?" he asked.

Rose bit her lip. "It's this thing Dad and I used to do. When I was little, he used to tell me stories about skating on a pond at his Gran's house and how he loved the smell of the ice. It came to be one of my favorite things too, so Mum got a camera and it became this thing."

"Hmm, I never really thought about it." He shrugged.

Rose tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and turned away. "I'm not surprised."

A car horn sounded outside, but John ignored it. "What's that supposed to mean?" he snapped.

Tilting her head to one, Rose chose her words carefully. "I just think that you'd skate better if you let yourself enjoy it more."

The horn sounded again, and John was quickly becoming annoyed. "I come here to say have a nice weekend and you're giving me pointers." The horn beeped twice now and Joan's muffled voice could be heard yelling up the stairs.

"John, please, can we not get into this now?" Rose pleaded, grabbing her bag and trying to get out of the room.

He stepped in front of the door, blocking her path. "No, tell me what you meant."

She put her hands on his shoulders. "You are a brilliant skater and quite honestly one of the best male skaters in the world. But sometimes I wonder if you actually enjoy it or if you just think of it as an obligation. If something's not fun, no matter how good you are at it, is it really worth doing?" Leaning in, she quickly distracted him by kissing his cheek and moved him out of the doorway.

"I'm gonna miss my flight," she called back. "Have a nice weekend with Joan." Once outside, Rose said a quick hi and bye to Joan and made her way to the car that Wilf had arranged for her. Settling onto the plush backseat, she tried to push thoughts of John out of her mind. She had to run away as fast as she could because she had no desire to think about what John and his girlfriend will be up to on their romantic getaway weekend. It hurt in a way that she didn't want to acknowledge.

~oOo~

The familiar sights and sounds of south London enveloped Rose as she stepped out of the taxi in front of Tyler's Place. She couldn't help but grin at the familiar, faded sign above the family pub. This is where she had grown up, a place that she loved and would always be loved. Where she was sure to return after her partnership with John ended, whenever that inevitably happened.

Shouldering her knapsack, she made her way to the door and pushed it open. The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke assaulted her nose. Her eyes darted around the room, seeking a familiar face. There were lots of regulars but no sign of the people she wanted to see most.

"Rose!" Mickey's voice rang out over the crowd. "Rose!" Before she could turn to find where Mickey was at, he'd scooped her up in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips. It was a warm and familiar gesture and with all the tension between her and John lately it was nice to have an outlet. So she let herself kiss Mickey back for a moment, but only for a moment. Soon she pulled back and let Mickey guide her towards the bar where her mum, Keisha and Shireen were at.

Jackie Tyler wrapped Rose in her arms. "It's good to have you home, sweetheart. You've been gone too long. That coach must be working you too hard."

Everyone else hugged Rose after Jackie finally let her go. They also asked her all sorts of questions. She'd told them that she was skating again with an amazing coach; she had just neglected to mention that it was figure skating. It was a tiny detail really, when you thought about it.

"How's the skatin' goin', luv?" someone in the crowd called.

"That," Rose laughed. "That is kind of interesting. See, I haven't been speed skating."

Shireen looked confused. "Then what have you been doing, babes?"

"Figure skating." She bit her lip. "Pairs figure skating."

"You cannot be serious," Jackie said exasperatedly. "You're throwing everything that you've spent your whole life training for. Again."

Rose winced. Oh, her mom had reason to skeptical. When Rose had taken up with Jimmy, she'd told her parents that she was going to be lead singer in his band. Rose really did have a great voice and at that point in her life after the misstep at the Olympics she didn't ever want to skate again. At that age, Rose had been prone to making rash decisions without caring about the consequences. She had been young and stupid then and thought that winning the Bronze instead of the Gold was the worst thing that could ever happen. It wasn't, not by a long shot. It had been a hiccup, something that she could have easily come back from. Instead she cut and ran and then life had become worse.

Jimmy had been abusive, physically and emotionally. He had tried to convince her that she was weak. She had proved him wrong, proved that she was strong by leaving him. Her life had started to get back on track. She had gone back to school and she was even about to start skating again.

Then Dad had been killed and it hurt Rose for the longest time to get on the ice. It had been something that she had done with her dad. It was their thing. So she took up roller derby. It helped her work out her anger at what she had done to her career, at what Jimmy had done to her and at the universe for taking away her daddy.

Then Donna showed up just as Rose was starting to ice skate again. And even though John was one of the biggest arses that she had ever met, being on the ice, with him, it was like…magic.

This wasn't like things with Jimmy. Never again was she going to let a man, any man, treat her that way. But she also had to make her mum understand just how much skating still meant to her.

Grabbing Jackie's hand, Rose said, "Come on, let's talk in private."

Upstairs in their flat, Rose popped the DVD into the player. "We're good, Mum. I'm not throwing away everything away either. I'm building on it. I'm on the ice again, doing something that I love."

Jackie was sitting on the sofa, arms crossed over her chest and she was staring at the television screen. "How did you even get caught up with this bloke? Are you shaggin' him? You can't keep throwing your life away on the next charming bloke. "

"It's not like that," Rose protested.

Nodding, Jackie uncrossed her arms. "A bit of a dandy then? Typical for that lot, I suppose. "

An audible groan escaped from Rose's mouth. "No, Mum, he has a girlfriend, and he's completely insufferable ninety percent of the time. I'm in it for the thrill of being on the ice again." Rose dropped to her knees in front of her mum. "I'm skating again and I'm good and I love it. I promise you that this is me with my head screwed on right. This is a good thing, a very good thing."

"Well, he is a bit pretty," Jackie replied, still a little skeptical.

"And he's an unavailable, pillock of a man. This is about the skating and the Olympics and maybe even a Gold Medal to finish out my collection. It has nothing to do with John McDonald. He's a means to an end." Rose's gaze flicked to the mantle where her Medals were displayed on either side of her dad's urn.

"Your dad was so proud of you." Jackie cupped her daughter's face. "I am so proud of you." She nodded to the telly. "And you are very good."

"You wouldn't believe our training regimen, and John has his own rink," Rose explained as she moved to sit next to her mum.

Jackie wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulder and hugged her tight. "Rich bloke?"

"Unavailable twat," Rose sighed exasperatedly. "Mum, I promise it's not like that. We're just partners, skating partner."

Jackie chuckled. "I think the lady doth protest too much."

~oOo~

Life had seemed off kilter having been away from the rink for several days, John thought as he stood for his costume fitting. He'd picked out a tight, one-pieced, powder blue spandex body suit for himself. Of course it would be overlaid with a matching sequined military cut jacket.

He looked over at Rose who was wear an outfit in the same color, the short skirt accentuating her impossibly long legs. She was tugging at her high sequined collar. She looked uncomfortable and he didn't like that.

Ever since she had come home from her mother's she'd been distant, professional but distant. He'd thought things were going well between them, thought that they were becoming friends, maybe more. He didn't really have any friends, except for Joan. And yes, Rose frustrated and annoyed him to no end but still he'd thought… well, maybe that didn't matter anymore.

The costume designer was adjusting the position of a sash near his groin when Rose burst out laughing. "You're kidding me, right? We both look ridiculous like this. We aren't wearing these."

"Why not?" John asked incredulously. "These are very nice and they are similar to what everyone else will be wearing."

"Exactly," Rose replied pointedly. "We need to be different, set ourselves apart." She started pulling off her costume, stripping down to her sports bra and knickers. "And I am not wearing this." Dropping the beaded, sequined costume to the floor with a plunk, she turned and left the room. John's pulse rate quickened as he watched her near bare bum wiggling as she walked away. Well, she had seen him in nothing but a towel; it seemed now they were even.

Later that night they were both kneeling on the floor beside the stereo. Rose had won the argument over costumes; getting half naked hadn't hurt her cause. Now they were trying to decide on their music so Donna could start choreography.

Of course like everything else in their partnership, that was easier said than done.

"This is Mozart," John said, pressing play. "It's timeless, classic..."

"Boring," Rose moaned. Pushing another button on the stereo, a rock song began to play. She turned up the volume. "Now this is more like it." Her head bobbed slightly to the beat.

"I've already agreed to skate in weird costumes." He changed the music and turned the volume up. "This is what gets it done."

"Jooooohn," she whinged. "This is overdone. There will be a hundred other skaters performing the same stale routines to same boring music." She switched the song and cranked up the volume. It was loud enough now that she was almost yelling. "If we're gonna do this, why not kick a little arse?"

Clenching his jaw, he changed it back to Mozart and turned it up. Not to be outdone, Rose turned it back to the rock song.

He switched it back. "If you want to win, you've got to play it straight." He was yelling now.

"It didn't work for you last time," Rose growled.

"What did you say?" White hot anger flared in his mind and he got right into her face, nose to nose.

A muscle in her jaw ticked and Rose screamed. "I said. It. Didn't. Work. For. You. Last. Time."

"How dare you?" John yelled, leaning further into her personal space.

Rose shoved as his shoulder, getting him out of her face. "Because someone needs to push you out your comfort zone or you'll never grow."

Now it disintegrated into a shouting match. John wasn't even sure what either was saying, but he knew what he wanted to do to shut her up.

"It's after midnight." Joan's voice boomed over all the noise and immediately John turned off the stereo. Crossing her arms, Joan glared at the pair of them. "I have a 6am flight and had wanted to get a little sleep before then."

In a huff, Rose stood up and crossed to where the other woman stood. "Have him play you the Mozart. It'll put you right out." Then she left the room, slamming the front door in her way out to the guest house.

Chuckling, Joan said, "That girl really is insufferable. Are you sure she's the right partner for you, sweetheart?"

A low growl sounded from deep in his throat. "We are not discussing this." He ran a hand through his hair. The style he wore it in now much more sticky-upy than it had ever been. "Go get some sleep, Joan. The driver will take you to the airport in a few hours."

~oOo~

**11 weeks later**

Rose felt slightly guilty as she slipped into the passenger seat of Mickey's rental car. When Mickey had called to say he was coming up for a visit and asked if Rose could sneak away for a few days, she had been torn. On one hand she needed to skate. She only had three months to even qualify for Nationals and then a little over four months for Nationals themselves to perfect their routine. On the other hand, Rose needed a break from the tension that was building between her and John. Honestly, she'd like to use John to ease her growing desire for him. But he had a long time serious girlfriend. In fact she had overheard a conversation between the two lovers on Joan's last visit that indicated that Joan was interested in moving back here from New York.

So Mickey's visit had seemed like the perfect time to take advantage of their friends with benefits situation. Donna had told her to go and that she would take care of John, his temper and his jealousy. Not that he had anything to be jealous of, Rose reminded herself. He had Joan and all Rose needed was wanted from Mickey was a good shag. Well, it wasn't Mickey that she really wanted it from, but right now she would take what she could get.

The air still had a biting chill to it as John stepped outside, heading for his building. Joan had left again two days ago, thankfully. She was becoming a distraction, visiting every few weeks, and now she wanted to move back here. That was not something he wanted to happen, at least not until after the Olympics. Right now, he didn't want her here. Training was much more important than his relationship.

A car passed in the driveway and John was surprised to see Rose inside of it. The car was being driven by a man that was not one of the normal drivers. Where in the hell did she think she was going? They only had three months to get her qualified. Had there been some sort of family emergency? He ran flat out to the guest house that Rose and Donna lived in. Taking the stairs two at a time, he found Donna standing outside her bedroom door.

'Where's Rose going off to?" he asked.

"She is taking a few days off to spend with her boyfriend. That girl needs a little R&R," Donna replied tartly.

Boyfriend? John's breath caught in his throat. Since when did she have a boyfriend? "What do you mean, R&R?" he demanded angrily. "We don't have much time to get her qualified and you let her go away so she can shag her boyfriend?"

"John, you're overreacting," Donna said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's Christmas and we skate." He advanced on her. "It's my birthday and we skate. I have the flu and we skate. I skate every damn day for you and you give her two days to go off whoring with some guy I don't even know."

Crack. His face stung from where Donna's palm had connected. One of his hands came up to clutch the spot.

"Listen here, sunshine," Donna said, poking a finger in his chest repeatedly. "I gave you time off to spend with your wench of a girlfriend not that long ago. And don't you dare call Rose names for doing the same thing that you do. You have no right to say anything about who she's sleeping with. She is not a child and you are not her father."

"Didn't say that I was." Now he was rubbing the bruise on his chest that Donna had made.

"Well you aint her boyfriend either, so stay out of her personal life. Now you can either take the next few days off yourself or feel free to keep training. But I'm going to spend today at the spa getting a massage to get rid of the tension that you cause me." With that she breezed down the stairs, leaving John to gape after her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Four and a half months before Nationals**

"Here, darling, have another glass," Wilf said, once again filling Rose's glass with champagne. "We're so proud of you." He pressed a sloppy kiss onto her cheek.

"Thanks," Rose replied, turning her head so she caught Wilf in a closed mouth kiss. He blushed scarlet and then patted Rose's cheek. "I couldn't have done it without you, Wilf." She winked at the older gentleman and he kissed her again. "Qualified for Nationals, me, can you believe it?"

Donna raised her own glass in cheers. A year ago, when she had found Rose in that derby-pub league, she had had only the faintest hope that this would work out like it had. But here they were; Rose, Wilf, Donna, a fairly well behaved John and his annoying girlfriend were together in a posh restaurant celebrating her qualifying for Nationals. John had already been eligible but now that they could skate together, they were one step closer to their goal. Tonight was perfect and nothing was going to destroy that, nothing, except for John's big mouth.

"Hold up there, Speed Queen," John said, placing a hand over the champagne flute in front of him so that Wilf would skip him. "Qualified doesn't mean ready. We still have a lot of work to do."

Donna watched as Rose flinched as if he had struck her. Quickly though, she slid her expression behind a carefully crafted mask and squared her shoulders. "Why are you trying to rain on my parade, John? Can't we just take one night to celebrate?"

Wilf and Donna both rushed to her defense and admonished John, who seemed to be in a foul mood. Secretly Donna wondered if he was unhappy about something and therefore couldn't let her be happy.

"Course we can, darling. Don't listen to that prat of a grandson of mine," Wilf soothed.

"You have done brilliantly, Rose. His Majesty is just upset that tonight isn't about him so John can just stuff it." Donna patted the girl's hand and smiled.

While everyone's attention was focused on Rose, Joan positioned herself behind John. They seemed to be having a silent argument. Maybe they were on the outs. It would be better for everyone if Joan made herself scarce. John was shaking his head and telling her no. Joan smirked and picked up a table knife, taping it gently against John's water glass.

"Since everyone is in such a festive mood," Joan started. "John and I have some very good news. We have decided, after much debate, that it's time for us to get married." No one said anything. "We're engaged," Joan clarified.

The room was still quiet and both Donna and Wilf's eyes darted to Rose. The poor girl looked like she was in shock. Donna wasn't surprised. She'd seen the growing attraction between them. In fact, Donna had been surprised that they hadn't chucked their respective partners and done something about that attraction. Guess not though, she thought sadly as she looked between Rose and John.

Finally Rose raised her glass. "Congratulations. I wish you both the best." She was again hiding behind a mask of strength, but her pain was just below the surface.

Wilf mirrored her gesture and offered his half-hearted congratulations. "That's wonderful news." He kissed Joan's cheek and clapped John on the shoulder.

The younger man started to look ill as Joan launched into wedding plans. She thought it was best to wait until after the Olympics because, of course, she needed more than six months to plan anyway and she promised that she would take care of everything. There was no need for John to interrupt his training schedule with details; all he had to do was show up.

It didn't go unnoticed, to Donna at least, that when Rose's mobile rang a few minutes later, the blonde excused herself and didn't come back for almost an hour. Donna also noticed that John's eyes kept darting in the direction Rose had left in or that several times he'd begun to stand but Joan, with a hand on his shoulder, had pushed him back down.

Whatever had been going on between her skaters had taken a turn for the worse. Unconsciously Donna's foot began to tap. She just hoped that the two of them could work out their differences before both of them saw their Olympic dreams slip through their fingers, again.

~oOo~

Rose felt like a weight was pressing against her chest. Still, she smiled and raised a glass in congratulations. There was no mistaking the smug look of triumph in Joan's eyes as she showed off her large, beautiful, expensive ring.

Right, so it hadn't been a spur of the moment thing. John had planned this, planned on asking Joan. Had he gotten down on one knee and professed his undying love and devotion? The joy that she had felt earlier at qualifying for Nationals was now drowned in her disbelief of her own stupidity. She'd done it again, let herself fall for another bloke who broke her heart. At least John had never hit her. It was a small comfort.

Mercifully, her mobile rang. It was her mum calling to congratulate her. Using the call as an excuse, she slipped away from the impromptu engagement party. Taking refuge in the restaurant's posh seating area in the loo, Rose managed to get through the conversation with her mum without Jackie catching on to her despondent mood. At least she hoped that she had.

Once she rang off, Rose was in no hurry to get back to dinner. Her appetite and her enthusiasm were lost. Instead, she sat on one of the plush sofas in the ladies lounge. Her fingers unconsciously played with a loose thread as she became lost in thought.

Had she really believed that John McDonald would want more from her? The man's entire existence seemed to be wrapped up in skating. He hardly even had time to spend with his girlfriend, no, his fiancée, as it was. He never went to visit her, and he currently spent almost all of his time with Rose. They spent it mostly on the ice, but they had also spent some of their down time together, reading in the library or watching a film. From what she had seen, John hardly spoke to Joan between visits. Rose wasn't sure how Joan could be marrying a man that didn't seem to give her a second thought when she wasn't around.

It definitely wasn't the kind of relationship that she wanted to be in. So instead of sitting around and moping over a guy, Rose resolved to move on. To focus on her skating and hope that she could mend her broken heart while spending so much around the object of her affection.

The next few months were going to be brutal.

~oOo~

John closed his eyes and for the first time in many years he concentrated on what was going on right now in this moment. He let himself get lost in the feel of his legs moving as he glided around the rink and the sounds of his blades cutting through the ice. Just the simplicity of skating for himself without any goals or agendas filled him with joy.

He did a couple of sloppy turns, laughing at the cold air hitting his face. For several long minutes he made random patterns and skated for nothing more than the fun of it. Racking his brain, he tried to think of the last time he had done this. Immediately he thought of his mother twirling him around when he maybe eight or nine. Her laughing face was as clear in his mind as if it happened yesterday.

Then, the face shifted and his mother's dark brown eyes were replaced by Rose's whiskey colored ones. A recent memory pushed its way into his head. It had been just two weeks ago, right here in his building, the day before she qualified for Nationals. The day before everything went pear shaped.

They had been spinning, holding hands and spinning faster and faster in a circle. Their laughter had been echoing off the rafters. Donna hadn't even told them off for skiving off the last half hour of practice. It was the happiest that he had felt in years.

Eventually they had collapsed on to the ice in exhaustion. Both of them were still giggling and he'd had the strongest desire to kiss her. Her eyes had kept flicking to his lips. She had started leaning in. They were almost there when the front door had slammed open. Joan had arrived, again. Honestly, John had begun to think of her as a nuisance.

Rose had quickly snuck away and Joan had begun to nag. What was going on with Rose? Why was he always with her? Didn't she, as his girlfriend, matter anymore? Why wasn't he more devoted to her?

In that moment, John had been ready to walk away. This was not what he needed in his life right now. They were six months away from the Olympics and Joan wanted to argue domestics. Right now his commitment had to be to his skating partner. Why couldn't Joan see that? She had known him almost his entire life and his entire career. Right now he didn't want her around.

John had thrown up his hands in frustration and left the building. Obstinately, Joan had followed, badgering him to finally commit to her. In anger, he'd rounded on her and told her that if she didn't shut up right now it was over. Hell, even if she did shut up he was positive that he wanted nothing more to do with Joan Redfern.

And then she did the unthinkable. She played her one and only trump card. His mother.

The number of people John McDonald truly cared about could be counted on one hand with fingers left over. His mother was first and foremost on that list and his mum had been best friends with Joan's mum. When they were children, their mothers would plan Joan and John's wedding. Her son married to her best friend's daughter. It was what John's mother wanted.

Damn Joan for knowing him so well, for knowing what the memory of his mother could do to him.

She had brought a ring in case Wilf wouldn't give John his mother's to use. It was simple. All John had to do was agree. Joan would handle the details and he wouldn't have to think about it again until after the Olympics. Begrudgingly, he had acquiesced, figuring he could make this go away while he focused on what was really important in his life. He couldn't even be bothered to put the ring that Joan had bought for herself on her finger.

Now, only two weeks into this so-called engagement, he knew that it was a mistake and he wanted out. Unfortunately, Joan had left for New York the morning after she had made the big announcement. Even he wasn't enough of a cad to break an engagement over the phone.

In a sudden burst of speed John took off around the rink. He didn't want to think about Joan anymore. With a grin, he thought he might challenge Rose to a race. She would probably wipe the floor with him, but it would be worth it to see that special smile of hers.

If he was completely honest with himself, he wanted to be with Rose, not Joan. He wanted Rose so much so that it sometimes hurt to think about the fact that he wasn't with her.

"You're getting sloppy," the unmistakable voice of Harold Saxon called from across the room. "And what's with the wrist brace? Finally admitting that your grip isn't what it should be?"

Automatically, John's body tensed. He forced himself to skate over to his former coach and keep calm as he was unwilling to get into a screaming match with Harry so early in the morning. "What are you doing here?" John demanded. "I thought you would never stoop so low as to darken our doorstep again."

Harry absentmindedly picked up one of the practice CDs. No doubt he was trying to figure out their music. "You meant a lot to this sport, John. You still could, if you were conditioned properly."

"Spare me," John replied, rolling his eyes. "You had your chance and you blew it."

Turning fully towards the other man, Harry leaned against the railing. "Are you still blaming Torino on Martha?"

Unconsciously, John flexed his left wrist. He was tired of the goading. "I'm so sick of people thinking they can manipulate me, Harry. You walked in and took over my life when I was just a child. You spent ten years tying me into knots, controlling my life. From what I ate, to whom I was allowed to talk to outside of the rink. Every minute of my life was under your control. But no more."

John meant it and not just about Saxon but Joan as well. He was so tired of everyone thinking that they knew what was best for him. "I've survived the last seven years without you and I'm happier than I've ever been before."

Saxon smirked. "Oh yeah? I've heard about that sexy new partner of yours. A speed skater turned derby girl. Is this what your career has come to, John? A freak show? Or are you just trying to get into her knickers?"

A muscle in John's jaw twitched when Saxon insulted Rose. Now he was livid. "That girl, that speed skater is the best figure skater I have ever seen. She's going to make you weep, she's so good." He took a deep breath and stood up to his full height. "Now leave, I'm sure you remember where the exit is."

Saxon turned on his heel and walked away. John didn't even watch him leave. He no longer cared what his former coach thought about him, his skating or his life.

Behind him there was a loud boom. He whipped around to see Rose standing on the other side of the rink. Her large duffle bag, presumably the source of the noise, was at her feet.

"Rose," he whispered as she stepped out onto the ice. "How much of that did you hear?" he asked, not wanting for her to have heard Saxon insult her.

She shrugged a single shoulder. "Enough." Taking off across the ice she skated right up next to him. "Thank you for defending me to him." Her voice lacked its normal warmth.

Now there was no doubt that something between them was broken, and he desperately wanted to fix it. "I need to explain about Joan about the engagement…"

"John, I'm here to skate. I'm your partner on the ice, nothing more. You don't owe me any explanation for your personal life." She cracked her neck. "Now I need to warm up before practice."

Dammit, he really had cocked this up completely.


	7. Chapter 7

**Nationals**

The practice rink was crammed with both pairs and single skaters. Rose had to tamp down her nerves at the sight of all of these people who had been doing this their entire lives. Even though she'd been on the ice almost her entire life, she'd only donned the figure skates for about a year and a half. In the privacy of John's rink with no audience, she had felt secure in her abilities and in their ability to skate together. But now she wasn't so certain.

The last few months since John and Joan's engagement had been strained. At least they had been at first. Eventually, they had found a way to work together in a way that was friendly and fun. That may have had to do with the fact that Joan hadn't visited since she had qualified for Nationals. She must have been too busy planning her fairy tale wedding, and the thought of that woman marrying John hurt.

Seeing Joan again this morning when she arrived to support John had been a reminder that Rose was still just John's business partner. The only nice thing about Joan being here was that Jackie was here to give the woman hell. Instantly, Jackie Tyler hadn't liked Joan Redfern and had let the snooty woman know it.

Poor Wilf was going to have to play referee. There was no doubt in Rose's mind that Joan would be worse for wear in that cat fight. Maybe she could get Wilf to film it for her and she could watch it when she was feeling down.

It wouldn't make a difference where it counted, though. Even after all the time that she had spent trying to get over something that wasn't ever really there, Rose still found herself falling deeper and deeper in love with him.

A familiar face skated past. Touching her shoulder, John leaned close to her ear and whispered, "That's Martha."

"Ah, the ex-wife," she said, nudging him in the ribs. "That the new husband?" Rose thought that looked like the guy she had seen Martha skating with in the last Olympics. "He's more than a bit pretty."

Her partner sniffed. "Yes, that's Jack Harkness and it would be best to stay away from him. He's a bit loose with his morals and would do just about anything to get someone in bed."

If she didn't know better she would think he was jealous.

"Hello, John," Martha said coolly as she and Jack skated up to them.

"Martha, Jack," John said with a curt nod.

"You're Rose, right?" Martha asked, extending a hand. "I'm Martha; we met in Torino."

Happily, Rose shook hands. "I remember. It's lovely to see you again."

"Hello," Jack said, taking her hand and lightly kissing her knuckles. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness."

"Oh stop it," John moaned.

Rose let out a small laugh. "It's nice to meet you, Captain."

John tugged on Rose's arm, trying to separate her and Jack. "He's not a captain, Rose."

Giggling, Martha added, "He was defrocked, but that's a story for another time."

"Oi, I quit," Jack protested before smirking at Rose. "No one takes my frock, unless they ask nicely."

"Your tricks won't work on her, Harkness. She's seeing someone," John spat through clenched teeth.

Confused, Rose turned towards her partner. "I'm not seeing anyone." She hadn't been seeing anyone since Mickey, and that had been over for years, really. They were friends, mostly. With just the exception of that weekend a few months ago, but John wouldn't know about that. Would he?

"What about Mr. Mickey the Idiot, then?" he asked, sounding a little angry. Seems he had found out.

"Sounds like a domestic spat," Jack stage-whispered to Martha.

She giggled. "I don't think he does that sort of thing."

"Mickey and I were over ages ago." Rose rolled her eyes and turned back to the other couple. "It was nice to meet you both, but I have to meet my mother for lunch."

Martha and Jack both waved goodbye as Rose and a highly miffed John skated off the ice.

~oOo~

John had been on edge since lunch. Oh, what a brilliant idea it had been to have Joan, Donna and Rose's mother in the same time. It was the like watching a train wreck. No, it had been like watching an airplane dive bombing a train causing the wreck while an atom bomb went off nearby.

Joan had been particularly horrible to Jackie and Rose. Tired of dealing with all, Rose had excused herself to take a nap before tonight's performance. John had been hot on her heels, not wanting to be left alone with the wolves.

"John, wait a moment," Joan called after him. "I'll come upstairs with you. It's been too long since we've been together, and I've missed you so." Catching him up, she threaded her arm through his.

"Well, I've been busy, and you're the one who hasn't visited or called." He tried to shrug out of her grip on his arm. "And right now isn't a good time to catch up. I really need to rest." His feet carried him swiftly across the hotel lobby towards the bank of lifts.

The door to one of the lifts dinged open and a laughing Rose and Jack spilled out. John felt like he had been punched in the gut. "I…I thought that you going to nap," John said, stunned.

"Oh, stop being a kill joy, Johnny boy," Jack replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "I'll have her back in plenty of time to rest."

"Just a quick break with a new friend," Rose said over her shoulder as she walked away. "See you soon."

John was livid and was about to go after Rose when Joan hauled him into the lift. "I will not have you making a scene in the hotel lobby," Joan snapped as she slammed the button to their floor. "As my betrothed, you have obligations to me and my family. There are far too many media people at these things and you will not embarrass me, especially not over some trollop. I'm so tired of the way you two act around each other. It's like… It's like foreplay."

Red hot anger burned in the pit of his stomach. "You are not to talk about Rose like that. In fact, I'm tired of the way that you treat her. She deserves to be treated with respect."

"Of course you would defend her," Joan crossed her arms.

"Yes, I will defender her," he said as the doors to the lift slid open to their floor. "Rose is my partner and the single most important person in my life." Angrily, he stomped down the hallway. When he reached the door, it took several attempts to open it as he fumbled with the card key. That only exacerbated his rage.

"Most important person in your life?" Joan spat through gritted teeth as she followed him into the room. "How dare you say that?" She raised her left hand and pointed to her ring. "I am your fiancée."

All the anger and resentment he'd been feeling over the last few months boiled over. "You never gave me much of a choice in that, did you? Buying your own ring, manipulating and guilting me into agreeing to something I did not want to do." He ran a hand roughly through his hair. "And then you disappeared for months. Only available through email because you knew that I would be too busy to track you down, and even I wasn't enough of a prat to dump you over email."

"What has this girl done to you?" she screeched. "Before you met her you never treated me like this. You wore your hair in a proper fashion and not like a spiky hedgehog. I'm sure that's the way the slag likes it."

"Leave Rose out of this," he yelled, getting into Joan's face. "This is between you and me."

Joan ignored him and continued in her rant. "Before the chav, you kept a professional distance from your partners and you planned for the future, our future."

That made him laugh. "If you think that I was ever planning for anything more than my skating career, you are sadly mistaken. My entire life is wrapped up in skating, and I'm sorry if you have ever thought that you are more important to me than that."

"And Rose is?" Joan asked with tear-filled eyes.

John turned away from her and stalked off towards the window. "I told you to leave her out of this. Rose has nothing to do with what is going on between you and me."

"But if you hadn't fallen for her," she swallowed hard, "then we would still be happy."

"Were we ever really happy? Or were we just doing what we thought was expected of us?" He scrubbed a hand down his face. "I'm not happy," he waved a hand between them, "with us."

"So this is it?" Joan asked, her voice quavering slightly. "All those years meant nothing? Everything our parents ever wanted for us? Everything that your mother ever wanted for us?"

"Stop it," he bellowed. "I am so tired of you trying to use her against me. We were ten years old when she died. Who knows how she would feel about us now? I think she'd want me to be happy, and I don't think she'd appreciate the way you've been acting. I hope that she wouldn't want me to end up with such a manipulative bitch."

"How dare you say things like that to me?" Advancing on him, she brought up a hand and struck him across the face. "You ungrateful…."

"Get out! Get out of my room and go back to New York."

Silently, Joan walked over and picked up her suitcase before walking out the door to their, no, his room. As the door clicked shut, John felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Now he could probably take a nap and rest before tonight's performance. Except that Rose was out there with that cad, Jack Harkness. Bugger.

~oOo~

Rose settled into the back of the limo between her mum and Donna. The two of them were chatting happily with Wilf, who was sitting across from them. It was nice that the three of them were getting along so well.

All that lovely camaraderie would be lost when John's lovely fiancée graced them with her presence. Her nerves were starting to fray at the thought of being in such tight quarters with the woman. Lunch had been a disaster; luckily she had meet Jack in the lift on the way to her room.

He'd been a nice distraction. Jack wasn't a player per se because he made no attempt to hide that he loved everyone. And he had made her feel special, desirable. It had been nice to have someone be so direct about their feeling towards her. Instead of the way that John acted.

When it was just the two of them, John seemed to want her as more than a partner. She wanted him, so much. And at this point they had had several near misses and Rose had thought that with their near gravitational pull towards each other that things were inevitable. Then he'd gone and gotten engaged and it had been a proverbial slap in the face for her.

The door to the limo opened, and John slid inside. "We're all in. We can go," he said, looking down at his lap.

"We're not waiting for Joan?" Donna asked skeptically.

John adjusted the lapels on his brown pinstriped jacket. "Something came up and she had to go back to New York immediately."

"Thank God," Jackie muttered and Rose elbowed her in the ribs. Wilf barely suppressed a laugh.

"Driver," John called, "let's go."

Rose was afraid to look up, even though she could feel him staring at her. She wanted to hide her joy at the fact that Joan wasn't here. That woman and her nasty attitude was an unwelcome distraction. And tonight would need all of her concentration, it was not the time for another Torino incident.

The ride to the ice rink was noisy. Jackie and Wilf were having a grand time, laughing and joking like old friends. They had made plans to go to a late dinner together after the performance so that Rose and John wouldn't feel obligated to entertain them. Rose was thankful for that and was incredibly grateful when the limo pulled to a stop and she could escape to the dressing room.

She felt infinitely better once she slipped into her deep red skating outfit. John was going to be wearing a matching red button down shirt and black pants. Thankfully, there wasn't a sequin in sight. Tightening the laces of her skates, she felt all the tension of the day, of the past few months melt away. It was time to skate.

~oOo~

John stood near the ice waiting for Rose to come out of the dressing room. She was taking quite a bit of time, and they were up next. His mind was racing with everything he wanted to tell her. That he had broken up with Joan and that he wanted her to stay away from Jack, or any other man for that matter. It was just a matter of when to do it, now before the performance or afterwards. Maybe he should wait until after Nationals. He had just ended an engagement and he didn't want Rose to think she was a rebound. She was very special, far too special for him to make any more missteps when it came to her.

Tenderly, he touched Rose's good luck charm that was pinned to shirt, underneath his collar. He had never really believed in luck before. He believed in hard work and determination, but luck had brought him Rose. That thought brought a smile to his face.

"Ready to go?" Rose asked, coming up behind him.

A wide grin formed on his face. "I was born for this. How about you?"

"Oh yeah, I live for this." She smiled that smile of hers that made him melt.

Suddenly, he didn't want to wait to tell her about today's events. Reaching down, he took her hand. "Rose I need to tell you something..."

"TYLER-McDONALD," one of the organizers called. "Please take the ice."

Without hesitation, Rose stepped out on the ice dragging John behind her. "You wanted to tell me something?" she asked when she hit her mark.

This was definitely not the time for heartfelt conversations. Taking a deep breath, he popped up his collar to show her the blue police box. "I didn't forget to wear it. Not that I think we need any luck."

"You bet we don't," she agreed as their music began to play. "Let's skate."

And skate they did. Their side by side triple axels and sit spin were perfect. Their lifts were graceful, elegant and perfect. Tonight they were on point, flawless. But more than that, they were in-tune with one another. The connection between them was evident in every single one of their movements. Their focus was solely on each other, skin tingling at the placement of hands, eyes meeting and souls connecting. It was by far the most intimate act of either of their lives.

When they hit their final marks, they were both panting and grinning ear to ear. The boisterous noise of the crowd finally pierced their bubble. As he took her hand for their bow, John realized that for the first time in a performance he hadn't thought about winning. He had simply lived in moment, and it had been fun. He wasn't even fully listening when they started announcing their scores. He was simply focused on how Rose's hand felt in his and how he really wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her.

"That was amazing," Rose yelled over the din of the crowd. She pointed up at the scoreboard. Their marks were very high, easily securing them first place. "I think we did pretty well."

"We did great," John confirmed, leading her to the side of the rink.

~oOo~

The two were giddy as they made their way back to the hotel. They were holding hands, bumping shoulders and giggling the entire time. They had indeed ended up in first place after tonight. Jack and Martha were a little ways behind them in third and another couple, Amelia and Rory Williams were in second. It was really close, only a few points between all of them.

"How do you do it?" Rose asked, skipping down the hallway towards his door.

"Do what?" He slid the key card into the slot and turned to face her.

"The overnight thing? It's brutal. Why wait?" she asked, grinning. "Short program, long program, wham, just get it done. It's like….It's like… Oh, what's the word I'm looking for?"

With a cheeky grin, he replied, "Dunno, anticipation, expectation, excitement."

"Foreplay," she blurted out. "It's like foreplay."

"Really?" he asked, moving closer to her.

Rose swallowed and let her eyes dart down to his lips. "Yeah, like foreplay. All that dragging it out, and all you want to do is get to the main event."

"I think I know exactly how you feel." Moving his hands to her hips, he pulled her forward and tilted his head. His tongue darted out of his mouth and moistened his lips.

At the very last second, with their lips a few scant millimeters apart, Rose pulled back. "Sleep," she whispered. "I need to get some sleep." Stepping out of his grip she began to walk away. "I think you need some rest, too," she called over her as she reached her door.

Damn, John thought as he watched her disappear from view. He should have told her about Joan. Tomorrow, the first time they were alone, he would tell her, confess everything and maybe tomorrow night could end differently.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N For those of you who've seen the movie, you know what's coming next. For those of you who haven't, brace yourselves. Please remeber this is very AU and soem character reactions are not what they would be in canon.**

The next day, Rose purposefully kept her distance from John. Sleeping in, having brunch with her mum, a long jog and a massage managed to take up the majority of her day so far. Finally, an hour and a half before tonight's long program, she knew that she couldn't put off seeing John any longer and headed to the rink. After last night, she was so embarrassed. Why had she started all that talk about foreplay? She was in love with a man who was engaged to someone else and she had almost let him kiss her in the hallway of the hotel. Anyone could have seen them.

What kind of person did that make her? What kind of person did that make him?

Once she was dressed in her costume and skates, she made a big production of stretching and limbering up, still avoiding John. He had tried to talk to her about fifteen minutes before they took the ice, but Rose had cut him off and went off to find Donna. Oh, she could tell that he was getting frustrated. The sound of him huffing and sighing as he followed her around was just stage one of his hissy fits. Next, he would start being grouchy and snippy. After that the yelling would start. Finally, there would be him walking away in a huff.

Letting out a deep sigh, she turned around to face him. "What is it, John?"

"Rose." He swallowed and stepped closer to her. "About last night..."

"I'd rather forget that whatever happened after the performance last night." She looked away and put as much bravado as she could into her voice. "My comments were inappropriate, as were my actions, and I would appreciate it if you just let it go."

"I don't think that you understand," he began to say.

"TYLER-McDONALD," the official called. "You have one minute to take the ice.

Rose smiled brightly. "Come on, we have a spot in the Olympics to earn." Grabbing his hand, she led him onto the rink. She felt him relax and in turn she did the same. Once they were in position, Rose slid her hand to his collar. "Did you wear it?"

"Course I did." He smiled, reaching up his hand to capture hers. "But I don't really need it." Moving her hand to his lips, he kissed her palm. "You are the only good luck charm I need."

A warm feeling spread from the spot on her palm that his lips had touched to her entire body. The music started and mentally she counted down to their first move. Thankfully, last night's events had no bearing on their skating.

In fact, they were somehow better than last night. They were skating strictly for themselves and for fun. It was emotional and intimate, gracefully and delicate yet full of power and energy. When they went into their final spin, electricity flowed between them. As cliché as it sounded, she felt like they were connected at such a deep level, it almost took her breath away.

Hitting their final marks after a flawless performance had Rose on a high even higher than when she won the silver. The roar of the crowd was deafening, once it finally hit Rose's ears. There was a gentle pressure on the small of her back as John guided her off the rink to receive their scores. John leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"You were brilliant tonight," he whispered, his breath hot in her ear.

When the scores came in they were good, very good. Their scores were high enough, in fact, to keep them in first place, above Martha and Jack. And there was only one team left to skate, Amy and Rory. They were so close and Britain was only going to send one team to the Olympics. So right now, everything rested on the last pair's performance.

Donna joined them in the backstage area. Nervously, the three of them watched a television monitor with the bated breath as the next pair took the ice. "Whatever happens, Rose, I'm so glad that I met you," John said, grasping her hand.

"Yeah, me too," she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.

Tension was palpable as they watched Amy and Rory skate. They were doing really well, and Rose closed her eyes, knowing that there was nothing else that she could do now.

"Oh, that is unfortunate," the announcer on the screen said. "It looks like her toga got caught on his breast plate. The Roman theme, while aesthetically beautiful, seems to be their downfall tonight."

Rose's eyes flew open, and she watched the replay of Amy's elegant toga costume getting caught on what looked like the armor of a Roman Centurion's costume. As bad as Rose felt for Amy and Rory in that moment, having been there herself, she was much more excited about what that meant for them.

"We are in," Donna said beaming. "Sochi, Russia, here we come."

~oOo~

Two hours later, John found himself sitting in the crowded hotel bar next to Rose. They had sat through countless interviews and had changed into more casual clothes, him into a brown pinstripe suit and tie, her into a dark blue sleeveless dress. Now their knees kept bumping together, and the contact was shooting electricity through his body. This was his chance to tell her everything. The first time they had been alone since the hallway incident yesterday.

Wilf had taken Jackie and Donna to dinner, giving the pair some time to themselves to celebrate. His grandfather had given him a knowing wink and told him to make sure and show Rose a good time. Not that John really expected anything to happen.

Maybe he'd kiss her. That would be nice after so many missed opportunities. But more than that? He could hope and definitely dream about more than kissing. Tonight could be a huge changing point in their relationship.

"Are you sure about this?" Rose asked as the barmaid set down two shots of tequila on the bar.

"Whatever you're having," he said with more daring than he felt. Having never had alcohol, he had a general idea of what to expect but had no idea how it would affect him. Maybe it would help with the conversation he wanted to have with Rose. It would help them both relax a bit before he confessed how in love with her he was.

"Let me show you how it's done." She lifted her wrist to her lips and licked the skin there. His mouth hung open in shock as he imagined that tongue licking its way around over other bits of flesh, namely his flesh. Oh, and the thought of his tongue on her flesh. He shivered.

"So, first you lick, then you salt." She picked up the salt shaker and sprinkled salt on her wet skin. "Then you lick again. After the tequila shot and finish with the lime." She demonstrated the steps and grinned. "Your turn, if you want." Gently, she pushed the salt shaker across the bar.

With great trepidation, he licked his wrist and sprinkled it with salt. He pulled a face as the stuff coated his tongue and Rose giggled. "Bottoms up," he said before downing the clear liquid. It burned going down his throat, and in the manliest of ways he made a retching sound before shoving the lime into his mouth.

Rose had to bite her lips to keep the giggles under control. "So how was it?"

"Disgusting. Why do people drink that stuff?" He set the shot glass down on the bar. A feeling of warmth spread through his body.

Motioning to the barmaid to bring them another round, Rose said, "Lots of reasons. To dull the pain, to loosen up, to celebrate." She nodded towards the dance floor. "To make dancing that much more interesting."

He watched as she repeated the ritual to down another shot and then parroted her actions. This time he really felt the effects of the alcohol. The heat seemed to deepen in his stomach and his head felt lighter. "Come on, let's dance." He pulled her off the stool and led her out onto the crowded dance floor.

"Are you sure?" she asked, trailing after him. "I mean, can you dance? Do you even have the moves?"

The music was thumping in his ears as he pressed her closely into him. Bending down to whisper in her ear, he said, "Oh, Rose Tyler, I have the moves. And tonight, I'm going to show all of them to you." His hands found her hips as he started to sway to the music.

They held themselves father apart then they did in practice. Most of the time, their hands were in positions on each other's bodies that most people would consider intimate, that with Rose he considered intimate. But this was something else entirely, because it was just them.

~oOo~

John had dragged them back to the bar after a few songs. After taking two more shots, he took her back out on the floor. His hands were everywhere and she not so secretly loved it. It would have been so easy to just let things happen between them, things that had been building for a year and a half, but she needed to keep her head clear and her heart safe.

She joined him in another round of shots and another round of dancing and then a fourth, fifth and sixth round. After each shot his dancing, which wasn't that great to begin with, got more and more erratic. She called it quits after the seventh round when he asked if they could try body shots next time. The last thing she needed was to let him do something that would cause them both embarrassment in the morning.

Rose had to half dragged, half carried John to his hotel room. He had tried to make her fish the card key out of his front trouser pocket and had then pouted when she refused.

"Where's your sense of adventure, Ruse..." He shook his head once she sat him down on the sofa. "Nope. Tose. Bleh. That's not right either, is it, Roooose Tayler?"

"I think you're drunk," Rose sighed as she bent down to pull off his trainers. Why he was wearing those with a suit she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Oh my lovely Rose, don't think. I don't think that I could think even if I wanted to." He pulled his tie free as Rose stood up and crossed the room. "In fact, I declare that for the rest of the night we stop thinking and just do." He wiggled his eyebrows and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Quickly looking away, Rose busied herself fixing him a glass of water. It wouldn't completely stave off the hangover headache, but it would help a little. When she handed him the glass, his fingers brushed hers and he had an unmistakable look of desire in his eyes.

"Did you ever stop to think about magnets, Rose? Sometimes they just repel each other and you keep pushing them around and one moves away. Then the other pushes back and this time it's the first one that heads in the opposite direction." He shimmied out of his jacket. "But all they need is a little flip and boom, instant, undeniable attraction. That's all we needed, Rose." Throwing his jacket to floor, he finished his little speech by saying, "Flip."

"This isn't right, John," Rose protested weakly. "You're engaged to Joan."

He giggled. "Joan, groan. She and I are over. I kicked her to the curb. Now there's nothing standing between you and me." He attempted to stand but fell back down.

"John, not like this." Tears pricked her eyes. This was overwhelmingly good news. Now they could finally... But she didn't want then to start like this, with him drunk and so soon after his broken engagement. "We need to wait, and you need to get some sleep. Tomorrow, we can…"

Suddenly, he was very angry. "God, I am so sick of everyone thinking they can tell me what to do. First it was Saxon, then Joan and now you. I am sitting here throwing myself at you." He ripped open his shirt and threw it on the floor. "And you want to get sanctimonious now. You're not even up for a celebratory shag. Obviously you're not the girl I thought you were."

Tears were now streaming down her face. Is that all she was to him? A quick shag? She felt like throwing up and it had nothing to do with the alcohol. "Please, don't do this," she pleaded.

"Do what, Rose? Get upset because you'll run off for a weekend of fucking with that Rickey the idiot or make cow eyes at every single pretty boy and all you ever do is tease me? Is that all you are, Speed Queen? A cheap teasing trollop? Because from where I'm sitting it is all show and no go as far as we are concerned."

Maybe it would have been easier if he had hit her instead of raging on her like this. "You were engaged."

"I wouldn't think that would matter to a girl like you." He slumped against the seat and pointed at the door. "Just get out."

"It didn't have to be like this," she said, voice quavering. She thought it had hurt when he had picked Joan, but that was nothing compared to the way he had just shattered her heart. "You're a lousy drunk," she spat as she turned to leave.

"And you're a lousy date," he yelled, throwing one of his shoes at the door as it closed.

Rose flinched as the shoe collided with the door. Everything she had thought or at least hoped was true for the past year and a half had vanished in the span of a few minutes. Apparently he wanted her but just for the night. She loved that arrogant toe rag and he only lusted after her.

Once again, she didn't care about her career or the Olympics or anything really. She felt like all she wanted to do right now was run away to the other side of the globe and never see John McDonald again. Barring that she would settle for drinking herself into oblivion. The minibar in her room should be well stocked. If not there was always room service.

On unsteady feet, she made her way back to her room. Thankfully it was on the same floor because she wasn't sure she would have made it further than that. Once she had stumbled through the door, she noticed a bottle of champagne on the table. Picking up the note, she managed to read it through bleary, tear-filled eyes.

_Congrats, Babes!_

_Enjoy a bottle on us. Maybe you should share a glass with that gorgeous partner of yours._

_Love,_

_Keisha & Shireen_

Throwing the bottle onto the bed, Rose gathered all the little bottles of ridiculously expensive alcohol from the minibar. She knew that John was the one having to foot the bill for this little excursion into recklessness, and that made her feel just the slightest bit better.

Over the next two hours, she made her way through almost all of the booze and had managed to pop the cork on champagne. Her head was swimming, and she didn't want to ever leave this blissful numb feeling she was in. A knock at the door interrupted her stupor. This had better not be that twat of a partner whose name she wasn't even sure of right now.

The knock sounded again, and Rose made her way to open it. On the other side of it was not her pillock partner. Instead, it was the handsome, charismatic Jack Harkness holding a single red rose.

"I thought that maybe you'd be out celebrating, but I'm glad I found you here instead. You have an amazing sit spin, and I was hoping we could compare notes." Jack smiled brightly, and Rose stepped aside and let him in. Right now she couldn't be bothered to care one bit about consequences.

~oOo~

Waking up the next morning, John found his head was pounding and his mouth was dry. And he was fairly certain he was bleeding from his ears. The events of last night were bleary at best. He remembered doing tequila shots and dancing with Rose. Then her dragging him back to his room.

That's when things went pear shaped. There was yelling, he remembered yelling but not what he said. And he remembered crying. The image of Rose with tears streaming down her face flashed through his mind. What had he said? How had he screwed up badly enough to make her cry? And is there any way that he could fix it?

Throwing on a pair of jeans, a black shirt and his trainers, John cautiously made his way towards the door to his room. At the last minute, he grabbed a pair of dark sunglasses to block the light that was somehow brighter today than it had been yesterday.

Was the hallway tilted like this yesterday or was his equilibrium off? The floor tipped of its own accord, and he fell into the wall. Oh, he was going to have a talk with the management about getting an engineer in.

Painstakingly, he made it to Rose's door. He had to brace himself against the door frame while he knocked. "Rose, I'm sorry. I don't really remember what happened, but I'm sure I was a prat." He knocked again. "Can you please open the door and talk to me?"

There was a sound on the other side of the door, and John took a step back. That was not a good idea as the quick movement made his head pound harder. He shut his eyes for a second, hoping to dull the pain. Drinking was definitely something he was never doing again.

"It's a bit early for practice isn't it?" the familiar voice of Jack Harkness asked with a laugh.

His eyes flew open and he saw Jack leaning against the door frame, naked with his modesty covered only by a small throw pillow. Not that the pillow hid much at all. John grimaced, not sure anything would be able to erase that sight from his mind.

Alcohol might not be such a bad idea after all.

"Sorry," John muttered. "I must have the wrong room. I was looking for Ro..."

"Make sure to get more towels, Jack," Rose said, stepping out of the en suite, tying her robe.

Slack jawed, John stared at her as she slowly turned in their direction. John pulled the glasses off his face, complete shock written all over it. A thousand things ran through his mind in that moment. The most important of which was how could she do this to him? Not waiting around for an answer, he bolted.

"John," Rose called after him. "Stop."

He ran as fast as the wobbly hallway allowed, realizing too late that he was moving in the opposite direction of his room. Reaching the lift, he punched the button repeatedly, willing it to come quicker. The doors slowly opened just before Rose reached him.

"John, wait, please wait." Rose slid past the closing door and onto the lift.

"Spare me," John said, crossing his arms. "Just looking at you makes me sick. Jack Harkness. And to think I was coming to apologize."

"You better fucking believe that you should apologize. After the horrible things you said last night," she spat. "You made it abundantly clear that all you wanted was a celebratory shag or maybe it was a rebound thing since you just called off your engagement. Or was that just a line to try and get me into bed? I don't downshift that fast."

John paled, remembering Rose's tears the previous night. "Still, that doesn't excuse your behavior. I turn you down, and you jump in bed with the whore of the skating world."

"Not sure why you're surprised," she sneered, "especially since you seem to have a similar opinion of me. And how dare you call me a tease when you've been dating or were engaged to Joan the entire time I've known you, and after all the times we've almost... God, you are nothing but a cheater."

He opened his mouth to defend himself and she whispered, "I hate you."

His stomach rolled and his heart clenched. "Well, join the queue." The lift doors dinged open. "Get out of my way."

"No problem," Rose said, stepping out of his way and letting him dart past her. "I've been practicing that move for a year and a half," she yelled after him.


	9. Chapter 9

The atmosphere in the rink was icy and not for the normal reasons. In the two days since Nationals, Rose and John hadn't said a single word to one another. Hell, they wouldn't even look at each other. Donna didn't know what had happened. Honestly, she wasn't even sure she wanted to know why they weren't speaking. She didn't have time to figure out why. Right now, she had to be their coach, not their friend. They had five weeks until Sochi, and they would need a miracle to win at this point.

"So, last night," Donna said, laying a sheet of paper on the ice in front of Rose and John. "At the American Nationals in Chicago, a pairs team got a perfect score."

She laid down another sheet. "Adam Mitchell and River Song." Yet another piece of paper was laid on the ground. "Everyone says they are unbeatable. So maybe we should just give up now." She set down one last piece of paper. "You two clearly don't want to be here. So let's just save Queen and country a considerable amount of pounds and pack it in now."

Rose turned and picked up one of the pieces of paper. "What's this?"

"It's a move that I've been working on," Donna replied proudly.

Rose's gaze flitted to the other pages. "So it's a split triple twist with a simultaneous triple toe?"

Skating up behind Rose, John peered over her shoulder. "We can't do this. It's incredibly dangerous. Any number of things could go wrong."

"Are you afraid, John? 'Cause I'm not," Rose taunted. He scowled at her but didn't reply.

Snatching the paper back out of Rose's hand, Donna snorted. "If you don't want to do this, that's fine. We'll refine your routine. Maybe throw in a few tricks and set our eyes on the Silver. Because as much as we hate to think it, those judges are biased and being Britain's skating sweetheart or…" She looked at Rose first before turning to John. "The biggest knob on the circuit isn't going to win us any points. We need something that will make them stand up and take notice."

John guffawed. "We can win without some flashy trick."

"I knew you'd say something like that," Rose sneered.

"What is that supposed to mean, Tyler?" John demanded.

Donna pinched the bridge of her nose, a deep, throbbing headache beginning to form. At least they are talking. At least they are talking, she kept repeating to herself.

Rounding on her partner, Rose poked John hard in the chest. "You don't take risks. You play it safe and expect everything to bend to your will. But you also have no respect for anyone else's opinion or anyone else's feelings."

"And you do?" A muscle in John's jaw ticked. "You don't think about the consequences of your actions, do you? How what you do or who you sleep with affects other people?"

"You are so one to talk," Rose snipped back. "You were engaged to a total cow that treated everyone like dirt, including you."

A shrill whistle cut through the air. "THAT. IS. ENOUGH!" Donna shouted. "I get it. Something happened at Nationals to get both your knickers in a twist, and right now you don't want to be around each other. BUT. I. DON'T. CARE."

Donna drew herself up to her full height. "I have five weeks to get you two dumbos ready to win an Olympic Gold Medal! So, starting right now, I own the pair of you until you skate off the ice at the end of your long program and you are going to play by my rules. After that if you want to kill each other, you have my permission and my blessing. Understood?"

Both Rose and John mumbled their agreement.

"Good," the brash redhead said, clapping her hands together. "I have a couple of ground rules that you two need to follow. First, the only thing you are allowed to talk about in the rink is skating. Second, you must treat each other respectfully whether you are on the ice or not. And if I catch either one of you breaking these rules or any others I come up with, I promise you that you will regret it every single day for the rest of your lives."

"Fine by me," Rose replied coolly as she slipped her mouth guard past her lips.

John rolled his eyes and glared at Rose. "If she can keep a civil tongue, so can I."

"Time to warm up," Donna commanded, rolling her shoulders to ease some of the tension there. This was going to be brutal.

~oOo~

Their timing was off.

Rose fell to the ice for the fourth time in an hour. A deep bruise had already begun to form on her hip from when he dropped her earlier. John was having trouble sticking the landing on his triple toe and therefore was unable to catch her properly.

She wasn't the only one getting hurt, though. Yesterday, the toe pick of her skate had connected with John's temple. Facial cuts tend to bleed profusely but John soldiered on, letting Donna do nothing more than wipe off the blood and put a plaster on it.

Hauling herself back to her feet, Rose prepared for another attempt at the difficult move. John held out a hand to help her up, and she batted it away. She didn't want him feeling like she wasn't as tough as he was, didn't want him to think that she wasn't as capable as he was, because she was. She had to be.

Things hadn't gotten the least bit better in the three weeks since their misadventures in tequila. While she regretted the way she had expressed her feelings, she didn't regret standing up for herself. John wasn't going to bully her around, and she certainly wasn't going to be his fling. Her resolve, however, hadn't helped to mend her broken heart one bit because, God help her, she still wasn't over him.

~oOo~

He cringed every time she hit the ice. They weren't clicking, and it was causing both of them a lot of pain, both on and off the ice. Part of him wanted to apologize for the atrocious things he now hazily remembered saying to her that night.

He wanted to make things right between them. But every time he opened his mouth to apologize, John remembered Jack opening Rose's hotel room door that morning. It made his blood boil in anger again. Just because he had no real right to claim Rose didn't mean he didn't want her to be his.

Even now, he wanted to grab her and kiss her. Well, he wanted to do more than just kiss her but that didn't seem very likely. She wouldn't even let him help her up. Things weren't looking to get better anytime soon. They probably would never get back to where they had been before Nationals either since John was convinced that the moment their long program was over, he would never see Rose again.

~oOo~

**Sochi, Russia**

**2014 Winter Olympics**

Enraged was becoming a permanent state for Rose lately. That arsehole had done it again. It hadn't taken him long either. Soon after opening ceremonies, the pre-performance interviews began. They had been doing one or two a day, both separately and together.

It was all part of the Olympic experience, and Rose was somewhat a novelty because of the whole speed skating thing. She was ok with that really. Smile for the camera, answer a few questions and then move on. There was nothing difficult about it.

Except for today.

None other than Jack Harkness himself had been conducting the interviews for BBC. Jack was a logical choice for a correspondent. He was a former Olympic Medalist and naturally charismatic, but being near him (with John standing next to her) had made Rose slightly uncomfortable. Ok, it had made her really uncomfortable, wanting to flee for her life uncomfortable. But she had stuck it out, not willing to let this get to her.

For his part, Jack had kept the questions light. He had asked them about the program they were skating tonight and about the new move they were rumored to be doing. And then he had asked Rose how it felt to be competing for the possibility of rounding out her medal collection with a Gold.

It was an innocuous question, one that Rose had answered numerous times. This time, however, she had the polite, diplomatic answer on the tip of her tongue, and it just wouldn't come out. "It's like…. Oh you know…It's almost…"

"Orgasmic," John had said with a mocking snort.

Fortunately, the force of nature that was River Song had burst into the room, and Rose had been able to escape. She had heard John calling out to her as she ran off. But she was done listening to him do nothing but cut her down and patronize her. A little over twenty-four hours and she would be able to start putting her life back together. A life without John.

A few hours later, Donna had finally convinced her that she actually needed to skate. And unfortunately, that couldn't be done from the security of the ladies locker room.

"You don't have to talk to him, Rose. I saw the interview, and I'll deal with his majesty later," Donna cajoled. Lacing her arm through Rose's, Donna led the younger woman to the rink. She whispered placating words the entire way.

"Where the bloody hell have you been," John said angrily when Rose neared the ice. "We have less than a minute until we skate. I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up."

"I'm here," Rose replied, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

"Well, take a moment and fix your hair. It looks dreadful." He pointed to Rose's head. "Donna, do something, adjust the pins or whatever."

Rose batted Donna's hand away. "It's just a few fly-aways. It'll be fine."

"Tyler-McDonald, take the ice please," one of the officials called.

Rose took the ice, and John skated after her. "Fix it," he hissed.

"No."

"It's distracting. Fix your damn hair."

It was too late anyway. Their music had begun to play, but that didn't mean that Rose wasn't going to get in the last word. She looked him straight in the eyes and said, "If putting up those few hairs meant the difference between getting scalped by some sort of industrial machinery and living a long happy life, I still wouldn't give you the satisfaction. Now skate."

She pushed off and began their routine. Her movements were stiff, lacking the grace of her previous performances. She was trying hard not to bristle as he touched her. Every single one of their moves was technically perfect, but it was cold. It was as if they were strangers instead of a fluid pair.

When the song ended, Rose took John's hand to take a bow but quickly dropped it and skated to the side to receive their scores. The technicals were high, their artistic scores not so much. It would be a struggle to win Gold now.

A reporter came up and asked them about their new move. Automatically, Rose began to explain how Donna had been the driving force behind it when John cut her off.

"It doesn't matter," he answered, waving a hand dismissively. "We're not doing the move. It's too dangerous."

"Typical," Rose muttered as she stalked off. Once again, he was trying to bulldoze her opinion. Mistakenly, she had thought they were past this stage.

~oOo~

John sat numbly in a chair back at the house he had rented just outside the Olympic village. Uncharacteristically, he hadn't had much to say since their abomination of a short program performance. Rose and Donna were, however, currently involved in a screaming match.

"I just don't understand why they two of you couldn't put aside all of the bullshit between you for two and a half minutes," Donna screamed.

"Really? You really can't understand why I am finally tired of putting up with his narcissistic crap?" Rose's voice kept getting louder and louder. "After the orgasmic comment in front of the reporters and his squawking about my hair? Oh and don't forget that the git just announced in front of everyone that we're not doing the move. Without bothering to consult me."

John stared at Rose in disbelief. She must really hate him and honestly, he couldn't blame her. Everything between them was broken and he desperately wanted to fix it, but that no longer seemed like a possibility. Not when he kept making decisions for her and criticizing everything.

When he had said that they weren't doing the move, it hadn't been because he thought she couldn't do it. It had been because he didn't want to see her hurt again. He didn't want to be the reason she was hurt again. He didn't want to cost her chance at the Gold by failing her.

None of that mattered now. He'd messed everything up by being an arrogant sod, and the best thing that had every stepped into his life would be gone tomorrow. There was no one to blame for that but himself.

"Grow the fuck up, Rose," Donna screeched, pointing a finger at the blonde. "Despite what the media may say, you are not a princess." She turned away and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I really thought that we had found our go-to girl. Guess we were wrong."

Rose slapped her palm against a table. "If you wanted a go-to girl, maybe you should have started with a go-to guy. Torino wasn't Martha's fault no matter which way you try and spin it."

"You ungrateful..."

"Rose is right," John said softly. Both women turned to him in stunned silence. "Rose is right about everything. It's my fault. It's entirely my fault." He looked up and met Rose's eyes. "And you stayed for almost two years now. After everything that I have put you through, you stayed. It must have been like living in a nightmare."

"John," Rose started but he stopped her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He ran his long fingers through his hair. "I need to think. I just... I just need to get out of here for a while." Hastily, he stood up and almost ran from the room. Behind him he heard Donna telling Rose to let him go and for that he was very grateful.

After making a quick stop in his room to grab his jacket, wallet and the police box pin Rose had given him, he made his way out into the Olympic Village. John wandered aimlessly for a while before settling into a small cafe. Maybe he could clear his head with a cup of Earl Grey. Okay, maybe it would take more than a one cup; it may even take a whole pot to sort him out.

Leaning his elbows on the table, he held his head in his hands. For as long as he could remember his life had been solely focused on his career and what had it gotten him? Two trips to the Olympics, the tiniest shred of hope of a medal and no one, save his granddad, who cared about him. No amount of fame or glory or even a Gold Medal hanging from his neck could make him feel loved and cared about. Nothing could make him feel half as good as he did when he was with Rose.

And he had ruined things with her for good by not telling her how he felt. Well, that and his inability to filter his mouth. He needed a life outside of the ice rink. Things had to change, and starting tomorrow they would.

~oOo~

The morning air was bitterly cold out on the upstairs balcony. Rose wrapped her jacket tighter around her with one hand and clutched her warm cup of chamomile tea with the other. Of all the things that had happened yesterday, the last thing that she had expected was for John to apologize. It threw her off balance in a way that was disconcerting.

Maybe she had been misjudging his attitude towards her these past few weeks. She had treated him horribly and refused to talk to him about what had happened after Nationals. Both of them had said unforgivable things to each other, things she knew she hadn't really meant and that she suspected that he hadn't meant either. They were both so stupid.

Rose sat there for at least an hour analyzing both her behavior and his over the last year or so. It was true that in the beginning they had rubbed each other the wrong way. Like John had said, they were like magnets. Repellant at first but with a quick flip, undeniably attracted to one another.

The cold finally having set in, Rose headed inside to take a hot bath to warm up before tonight's long program. After that, she was hoping to find John and clear the air between them. They may have missed their shot, but Rose desperately hoped they could at least part as friends.

A noise came from foyer and she leaned over the banister. John was standing below, surrounded by piles of his luggage. It looked like everything he had brought with him.

"What's this about?" she asked.

Startled, he looked up at her. "I'm heading back to Scotland after our last performance together. I've decided to retire. Tonight will be my final skate."

"Why?" Her heart was pounding in her chest. She wanted to talk and he was leaving.

Looking away from her, he sighed. "I've decided to make some major changes in my life. The house is paid up for another two weeks. You and your mum should feel free to stay as long as you'd like. I think Grandfather enjoys having Jackie around. She keeps him on his toes."

A sad smile flitted across his face and he looked up at her again. "You'll have no problem finding another partner. You are truly brilliant."

"John…"

He held up a hand. "I have to go. I'll see you tonight." Without waiting for her to respond, he strode out the front door. He had walked away from her both physically and metaphorically and it hurt.

~oOo~

Several hours later, John had still not come back to the rental house. Rose was beginning to worry that he was going to skive off. Her fears grew by leaps and bounds as she slid into the limo where her mum, Donna and Wilf were waiting. The car lurched as it began the drive to the stadium as soon as the door shut.

"Where's John?" Rose asked, worried.

"No need to fear, sweetheart," Wilf said, grinning at her. "That grandson of mine is going to meet us there. He said something about needing to clear his head. That boy and his little pre-skating rituals, I can never keep up with them." Wilf chuckled.

Rose shifted uncomfortably. That partner of hers had apparently decided there would be no talking before the performance. Fair enough, she had done it to him, twice actually, once last night and before the long program at Nationals, too.

John showed towards the very end of the competition. "Sorry I'm late," he said apologetically. "I had something that I had to do."

"It better have been important, skater boy." Donna pressed her lips together, obviously biting back some scathing words. Taking in a long slow breath, she looked back and forth between her skaters. "Please, I am begging the two of you to pull your heads out of your arses today and just skate. I have seen you two together; when you're on form, the two of you are... nothing short of amazing. So go out there and enjoy each other."

She hugged them both and squeezed Rose's arm. "I'd wish you luck, but you really don't need it."

"You warmed up?" John asked once Donna was out of earshot.

Rose nodded. "Yeah, you?"

He nodded and clenched his fist. "I got you something this morning. For luck." Raising his hand, he opened it. Lying in the flat of his palm was one of the commemorative label pins that were in every gift shop in the Olympic Village. This one was of the howling wolf mascot.

Nervously, he pulled on his ear. "It reminded me of you: strong willed, tough but still graceful, and more than a little dangerous."

"Thank you. I love it." She smiled and tried to pluck the pin from his palm.

He closed his palm slightly so she couldn't take it and said softly, "Let me." His long fingers brushed against her collarbone as he gently attached his gift to her costume. "Perfect."

"John, I'm sorry for everything," Rose blurted out before she could stop herself.

His hand rose to cup her face. "Yeah, me too." And there it was that spark of electricity between them. This time there was nothing standing between them, no fiancées or misunderstandings. Right here, right now, it was just them in a world of their own; anything could happen.

Just then, River Song accidentally bumped into John, and the moment was broken. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie," she said with a bright smile. "There are just so many people crammed in back here. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I'm fine," John replied in a friendly tone. "Good luck tonight."

River smirked, "Well it seems that your reputation isn't at all accurate. Good luck to you, too." With a quick nod to Rose, she led Adam, who had been trailing behind her, out onto the ice.

"Am I really that bad?" John asked with a frown.

Shaking her head, Rose replied, "No, I think you are actually quite wonderful when you want to be."

A deep blush rose on his face. "Well, I… We should… I…" He pulled on the collar of his shirt. "Well, we should probably get ready. My final skate. Never actually imagined I'd get to this point."

He moved away from her and started stretching to loosen up. Rose was filled with hope for the first time in weeks, for the first time since he had told her that he'd broken things off with Joan. Glancing over at him, her stomach did a flip when he bent over in front of her. He had a really great bum.

There were things that needed to be said, and she wasn't sure she could wait to say them. Looking over at a nearby monitor, she saw River and Adam performing. They were probably nearly finished, not leaving her much time to make a heartfelt confession. She chewed her lip, contemplating her next move.

"Rose, are you alright?" John asked.

"Yeah, just away with the fairies." She smiled. "It's just this thing between us. I always thought… I thought we were something more. Something special. But we just kept getting it wrong. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

John's eyes went wide and his expression was something that Rose had never seen before. Still though, she was determined to get this out before she lost her nerve.

"I don't know how you feel about me, but I know how I feel about you," she said and behind her the crowd went wild. The Americans had finished their routine and had done very well, judging by the crowd's reaction.

"We're up next. We should go. Maybe we should wait to have this conversation," John muttered, grabbing her elbow.

"No, I need to say this." Rose reached down and took his hand, letting him lead her towards the ice but stopping just before they stepped out.

A kindly man with a Russian accent leaned over to them. "You may take the ice."

Rose tugged at John's hand. "John, somewhere in the middle of this I fell in love with you." Taking a deep breath, she smiled at him. "I love you. I'm saying it out loud, right here, right now." The Russian man flushed and quickly stepped away.

John muttered something that sounded like 'quite right, too'. Nothing was going to stop her now. "Please don't say we're not right for each other because the way I see it, we may not be right for anybody else."

"Thirty seconds," a severe Russian woman dictated, pushing them towards the ice.

"John," Rose's voice caught in her throat and a single tear slipped down her cheek. "I need you."

Tears shone in John's eyes. "That's it, we're doing the move. Come on." He tugged her onto the ice.

Rose's heart plummeted. "You think I'm doing this to get a program out of you." She shook her head. "It's no good; the move is too dangerous. It's out."

"It's in," he laughed, tugging her to their starting position.

"Out," she replied, following behind him.

"In."

"Out."

He turned around as they reached the center of the rink. "It's in, you beautifully stubborn woman."

"Why?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Because I'm in the mood to kick a little arse." By now he was almost laughing and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

They began to skate and that thing they were missing was back. Skating as a fluid pair, their movements were graceful. His fingers caressing her waist as he lifted her. Her hands lingering slightly longer on his backside than they normally would have.

Their timing was perfect. They landed jumps together. Their lifts were agile and technically perfect. All of their intricate transitions and foot work were spot on. It was the best that either one of them had skated in their entire lives. However, Rose didn't care about any of that. She cared about John and living in these few fleeting movements.

Behind her, John moved into position for their big finale. With what seemed like practiced ease, he threw her into the air, into her split twist. Underneath her, he started his triple toe loop. One, two, three twists for each of them. Rose's spin was just a hair slower so John could stick his landing before catching her.

The crowd went mad. With his hands on her back, John guided them into their ending position. Their faces were mere inches from each other, both smiling and panting.

"You didn't have to do it." Rose's eyes were fixed on his, wondering what he was feeling right now.

"Yes, I did," he said, a mega-watt smile on his face.

"Why?"

His eyes softened and he licked his lips. "Because I love you."

The knot in her stomach that she didn't even know was there loosened. A single happy tear slid down her cheek that had nothing to do with the cheers of the crowd or even the perfect scores they received, clinching the Gold Medal.

"Just remember who said it first," she teased and then, like two magnets who were no longer pushing each other away, they came together with that undeniable attractive force. Their lips crashed together in a kiss that had the audience, who were already on their feet, roaring their approval. But John and Rose heard nothing, for they were utterly lost in one another. The kiss went on and on until they were finally shooed off the ice.

**A/N So this is where the movie ends and I am marking it complete... BUT I am writing a steamy epilogue that I will be publishing as a one shot b/c it carries a mature rating ;-) Don't worry, I'll publish a notification to this story when it's published.**


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